When my veins are bloodless
When the fever-rush has stopped
And they cart me off to the House of the Dead
When all the dust has been shaken out, when they scrutinize every fault
What runs through the cracks, eh, what runs through the cracks

"The look of love nourished in your eyes
The absence of love there
A field of snow where my feet ran
Before they grew tired,
A boy plucking an apple in the woods."

5-foot-4-inch man
You were never very tall
A sturdy little fellow
Though rather weak of mouth
How your blue lips trembled!
When Love caught you by surprise
5-foot-4-inch man
I look into your eyes
I look into your eyes
What did you see?

"Eyes, distant as an isle of fire Love, fleeting, but always in my hands Chaos, in the world I left behind, never to revisit Sleep, now that all is done".

Dead and silent man
What dreams run through your head?
What is it you have done?
You have left yourself here to be examined
Every hole and nook,
But what runs through the cracks, eh, what runs through the cracks

M. Rephun (c) June 28, 2007