Album: In the Eye of the Beholder (2003)

VIII


There's no question mark, in the reproachful beating of the clock.
Punctually registrating the time I've clearly wasted.

Eyes reveal an eggshell with with a concrete look.
Fragile like Chinese porcelain, still my mand can't break it.

I tried the fists, the pride, the tears, denial.
But all I needed was a simple smile.

The thing I love is what I fear.
Afraid I'd hold, I'd strangle.

The painting merely illustrates the one that broke the wall.

Is no one else but you.