There are voices in the attic Wispy whispers past the cabinets Filled with tawny photographs I am stolid, I am steadfast Where there's panic, lingers relapse Oh, no; those breakdown days are done This house alive I can hear the floorboards breathe
Creak, creak
Are these angels come to take me? If so, I'll wave my white flag willingly I have shed my snake-skinned past Clustered flies hinder the windows For every angel there's a devil Oh no, make these voices go away
I was a God-fearing boy Sure, I stumbled more than once But so did his begotten son
An orphan, thrown out to the wolves Not prodigal, far worse
I was hustled, I was scorned Made a criminal... But I stand here reformed
There are voices in the dead of night A child screaming, "I am Gemini!" Oh, what are you, and why? Are you specter? Are you spirit? Am I lucid, am I losing it? Oh no, this macabre facade These walls, paper thin