In  awkward  times  at  awkward  places  ...

Rogues  in  glitter  robes,  with  fierce  grimaces

Sneak  around  me  glowering

I  should  be  running  away

But  I  keep  standing  here  in  fires.

Sinister  choirs  of  whip-lashing  demons

With  circling  vultures  in  a  dreadful  allegiance

Sining  out  of  tune  in  empty  words  and  empty  phrases

Heard  it  all  before  from  a  familiar  face.

And  every  tone  cuts  deep  like  rain  in  april

Every  chrod  they  form  tears  open  the  wounds

But  today  will  be  my  day

When  I  stand  up  and  be  brace

Today  it�  me  and  my  ire

Today  I  stand  alone  in  fires.

Was  my  heart  one  of  a  sparrow?

Gaged  in  the  prospects  of  disbeliefer�  eyes

Was  I  lurking  in  my  own  shadow?

For  a  minute  free  of  compromise.

So  many  years  have  passed  inside  the  mussel

So  many  have  defiled  my  realm

So  many  foreign  tongues  and  unknown  words

So  many  blether  and  blether  and  blether  ...

Awoke.  From  sorrow  sleep.

And  every  tone  cuts  deep  like  rain  in  april

Every  chrod  they  form  tears  open  the  wounds

But  today  will  be  my  day

When  I  stand  up  and  be  brace

Today  it�  me  and  my  ire

Today  I  stand  alone  in  fires.