Fish - The Web

The rain auditions at my window, its symphony echoes in my womb
My gaze scans the walls of this apartment to rectify the confines of my tomb

I'm the cyclops in the tenement, I'm the soul without the cause,
Crying midst my rubber plants, ignoring beckoning doors,
Clippings from ancient newspapers lie scattered cross the floor
Stained by the wine from a shattered glass,
Meaningless words, yellowed by time,
Faded photos exposing pain, celluloid leeches bleeding my mind
Christ, you've finished playing hangman, you've cast the fateful dice
Advice, advice, advice me, this shroud will not suffice
And thus begins the web

Attempting to discard these clinging memories,
I only serve to wallow in our past
I fabricate the weave with my excuses,
It's strands I hope and pray shall last
Oh please do last, oh please do last