À Rebours - Chiaroscuro | Текст песни

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Hanging by a thread, Giving it back some time. Stretched out on the bed, this wraith haunting my life. Giving you back some time and listening to what you've said. The wraith haunting my life with cuts that never bled.

Spilled cabernet stains a Rorschach blot that we use to assess our deepest thoughts. Confessions and apologies seem maladroit, and yet, through their aperture, a black and white snapshot.

Listening to what you've said, that familiar line, “These cuts that never bled obfuscate the signs.” “Hanging by a thread,” that familiar line. Disregard the signs laid out on the bed.

Listening to your body hum in the dark, that sonar so I always know where you are. Shadows from the gaslight form a question mark; all the answers are hidden in your stars.

Stark, sallow light burns holes in our haunted space. Shadows thrown envelop us in a velvet grace. Words are inadequate shoes for the steps that we retrace, so, emotions are dragged down a worm-eaten staircase.

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