[00:17.84] |
The night sets softly with the hush of falling leaves |
[00:24.61] |
Casting shivering shadows on the houses through the trees |
[00:31.98] |
And the light from a street lamp paints a pattern on my wall |
[00:39.04] |
Like the pieces of a puzzle or a child's uneven scrawl |
[00:47.39] |
Up a narrow flight of stairs in a narrow little room |
[00:54.21] |
As I lie upon my bed in the early evening gloom |
[01:01.57] |
Impaled on my wall, my eyes can dimly see |
[01:08.76] |
The pattern of my life and the puzzle that is me |
[01:16.71] |
From the moment of my birth to the instant of my death |
[01:23.49] |
There are patterns I must follow |
[01:25.79] |
Just as I must breathe each breath |
[01:31.00] |
Like a rat in a maze, the path before me lies |
[01:37.97] |
And the pattern never alters until the rat dies |
[02:02.75] |
And the pattern still remains on the wall where darkness fell |
[02:09.25] |
And it's fitting that it should for in darkness I must dwell |
[02:16.18] |
Like the color of my skin or the day that I grow old |
[02:23.25] |
My life is made of patterns that can scarcely be controlled |