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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. Singing out of tune in empty words and empty phrases Heard it all before from a familiar face. And every tone cuts deep as rain in april Every chord they form tears open the wounds But today will be my day When I stand up and be brave Today it is me and my ire Today I stand alone in fires. Was my heart one of a sparrow? Caged in the prospects of disbeliefer's 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 as rain in april And every chord they form tears open the wounds But today will be my day When I stand up and be brave Today it is me and my ire Today I stand alone in fires.