The watcher
The watcher he watches from whispering halls,
The bells are ringing
A shadow told
me a whispered story
of friendship and glory
where birds and bombs are singing
The watcher delights in the howling of flames
pigs and flies burn
as he plays his games
I sleep in the shadows
and dance in the meadows
all burned and bloody and torn.
The watcher he sleeps in a bed of bone
dreams of sunlight
up on his throne
Adorned with flies
and whispering lies
Joys brushed away in his smile















