Distorted memories illuminated by fears, cast shadows over years
Mourning what was once only pleasant and serene
Doubts and consternation form the foundation
Of your dilapidated dwelling,
Predetermined prejudice form the walls of your edifice
Keeping you from seeing the good anymore
In the wind\'s rails, rancorous nails
Anchor it to a shaky floor
In the wind of judgment it tips then dips
So you can\'t open the warped door
Twisted joists, corner posts and beams hoist
Fractured windows distorting images outside its core.
They like prisms refract, truth through a window cracked
Leaving only your false pride.
Blind in your mind
You distort everything in and outside
You look at the door you look at the floor.
How straight it does appear.,
But from outside you can not hide
It\'s not right, that\'s quite clear.
Each time it caves in you shore it up again,
Saying it\'s easier than starting anew.
In a rotten beam a pin, on a leaky roof a sheet of tin,
But no matter what, there\'s never enough glue.
The thunder you hear is your tin roof ripping clear
As it flaps in the breeze.
The rain that you smell is only the water from your well
But before you believe it hell will have to freeze.