Broken Door

Staring at memories across an uneven floor
Listening to the rain and echoes of times gone by
Seeing life through the hinges of a broken door
Dusk creeps slowly and longer pass the hours of night
In bare feet the time passes slower for the lonely

Glare into a candle, you can be possessed by the glow
In the shadows of the flame you can hide from the light
Run the bath and watch the water rise and flow
Close your eyes and there is nothing there only night
If you don't look back you won't have to face the ghost

If given enough time it always comes back to you
All the times you lied and truths you've yet to confess
An amalgam of old sins paid back times two
If given enough time it always comes to this
When the clouds block the moon none can see you sitting on the tracks

Some rage, debase and sell them selves
They may cut their hair and paint their faces not to be alone
Distance themselves from generations of ancestors on dusty shelves
Hating themselves and the ties to their broken homes
These are the last days for the house on Fennimore Avenue

You can pay for more and get much less
Your dreams were sold long ago, receipt scattered on a dirty floor
Years stacked like concrete blocks across your chest
The flood from the rain comes in through the crack in the broken door
How long will it be before anyone knows you're gone?