Beaks Of Benevola

Walking around in the corridor without a sound on the hardwood floor
The savages are asleep and the infirmary is quiet like a morgue
Humming a tune from The Devil’s Brigade in the pondering sulky silence
Perishable in debt he pays the rent for all the evenings to repent

I want to be good
I want to be righteous for the perished yet unfolded
Forever blind, never misunderstood
Find a place in the woods among the bluebirds on the riverbed with shackled beaks in silence
I want to be good

It’s the end of the line, blind babies in a ballroom fade away, it’s the house of detention
Out here we’re lost in the haze, a thousand days are shorter than an hour in the Sun
Like a splinter to the spine, time is taming the untarnished
Trade your soul for the bliss of believing there are stars in the ceiling
Breeze in the curtains, grass on the floor, china on the table and a river in the sink
Creatures of the night watch sleeping on broken wings

I want to be good
I want to be righteous for the perished yet unfolded
Forever blind, never misunderstood
Find a place in the woods among the bluebirds on the riverbed with shackled beaks in silence
Silence

I want to be good