Here this room swells to droning tones
Spirits dance within these flames
Figures sprinkles within this space are
Quiet
Still
Only their ghosts move across the walls
Deafening voice is a definite choice
I spin to my nocturne
Take me under your wings
Don’t forget I’ll do my own thing
‘ Cuz I’m spinning and swirling to my own dance.
When the day breaks and dawn draws near
My angels hover below
Its an illness I must sleep off.
Another dawn draws near.