Been building pretzels in the dark, the days are getting loose
I’m rolling with a voice of mine that says that I’m no use
Writing spell books upside down, it’s a way to pass the day
Tried to hear the ocean but I’ve drifted far away

Idle hands throw idle stones; I read that on a wall
Written backwards, dripping blood, where poison spiders crawl
Been idle here for days on end and got to throwing stones
Thing is, they keep coming back and breaking all my bones

My skin is grey with gath’ring dust, my hair is growing long
Answ’ring questions no one asked, and getting them all wrong.
I know I’m in my prime, these are the wildest of my times
But if they truly are, then child, why can’t I find a rhyme?

With everything I ever said replaying in my mind
Splinters of the things I lost are growing hard to find
This guillotine looks familiar; I’ve seen this room before
I can’t help hear the sliding of the deadbolt on the door