(Stranglehold of The) Wet Hand

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Interphases

5:44

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The fireworm crawls through the darkness
Unconscious of what´s hiding in its bowels
Undisturbed and unsuspecting
The passengers are sleeping cheek by jowl

Warm breath has damped the windows
Now scab has formed around the frozen bite
No cure within compartments
No junction to rejoin the world outside

The Wet Hand prowls the corridors
Leaves a sweaty trail behind
A smell of bitter almond
Is rising from the wine

The train is breaking through the depths of the night
But the passage is too narrow for a flight
The storm is raging and the hunters are weatherbound
Groping for our tail-end lights

Too slow to cross the line again

The worm feeds on conductors
Their accumulated minds have been distilled
And aged in dark intestines
Digested to mere excrements of our will

The panes are stained by noses
A shadows stalking past their vacant eyes
Aligned spasmodic poses
Focusing the crowd waving goodbye

The Wet Hand lays its leather
Around our sweaty necks
We´re to die in drying weather
Dried up to our dregs

The engines drone against the push of the day
No blindfolds to keep the dawn at bay
Compartmentalized and caught in this funeral hearse
Carried closer to her rays

The train is breaking through the depths of the night
But the passage is too narrow for a flight
The storm is raging and the hunters are weatherbound
Groping for our tail-end lights
The Wet Hand strangles us and never will loose its grip
Till we fade into the dead-end night

 The easy, fast & fun way to learn how to sing: 30DaySinger.com