Song parody of
Sphericolor
by Iffin
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No one said I was not at fault
Still I don't like your turn of phrase
I am steadfast in staying up
At the wind fit to stir a stone
A new finger has opened up
The smallest wounds will never close
I've got one block to walk tonight
And rotate in the atmosphere
Orphan welters and dreams what to sell her
His body grows warmer as morning grows distant
His sword has been frozen half-cocked in its scabbard
He's fallen in her flowers
Who lives on top of this most perfect staircase?
Whose hips well-loved enough to wander these halls?
Who does their washing without paying for the privilege?
Who watches graveyard fireworks from the roof?
Who calls the tendril from inside the burner?
Who got the spiders to start pulling their weight?
Who shuts their window in the silence of darkness?
Who lives on top of this most perfect staircase?
Hot air cold floor
I would like to be emptier
Let you thru not just let you in
And keep feeling your tendrils grow
Up from the floor and thru my back
Sorry I do not have a bell
You'll have to shout when you're outside
Nothing but lights strung thru these halls
To mine the air for healthy dust
Orphan swelters and dreams what to tell her
The sun isn't rising must be daylight savings
They've hung up his sword on the wall of his bedroom
But not his old bedroom
No one said I was not at fault
Still I don't like your turn of phrase
I am steadfast in staying up
At the wind fit to stir a stone
A new finger has opened up
The smallest wounds will never close
I've got one block to walk tonight
And rotate in the atmosphere
Orphan welters and dreams what to sell her
His body grows warmer as morning grows distant
His sword has been frozen half-cocked in its scabbard
He's fallen in her flowers
Who lives on top of this most perfect staircase?
Whose hips well-loved enough to wander these halls?
Who does their washing without paying for the privilege?
Who watches graveyard fireworks from the roof?
Who calls the tendril from inside the burner?
Who got the spiders to start pulling their weight?
Who shuts their window in the silence of darkness?
Who lives on top of this most perfect staircase?
Hot air cold floor
I would like to be emptier
Let you thru not just let you in
And keep feeling your tendrils grow
Up from the floor and thru my back
Sorry I do not have a bell
You'll have to shout when you're outside
Nothing but lights strung thru these halls
To mine the air for healthy dust
Orphan swelters and dreams what to tell her
The sun isn't rising must be daylight savings
They've hung up his sword on the wall of his bedroom
But not his old bedroom
