The last voice I want to hear echoing in the dark'�

I don't want to know,
but I can't leave it alone.

There is no one here,
and nobody's home:
nobody to console me;
no body to control me.

There's no one left who really knows me.

Blood calls out to blood,
But my mind cries out in pain.

Come down please and pour me out,
cure me now from the stain,
wash away all these years,
Your name still remains.
Your ghost is where you are.

Piano numbers ' keys rest.
Piano: number, keys, rest.
Softly, last becomes the place I know best.

'do not open,'�
'do not touch,'�
'do not contemplate'�
this gold-gilded chest.

The frame warps with age,
Rage chaffs with razor burns:
nightmares come
behind platinum bars
of a porcelain cage.

So abnormally creative,'�
'and a Hell of his own making,'�
'so often a child,'�
(but sometimes a man '
of late: an individual).

Coat my mind in rapture;
I know the cost.
I know the price.

I slit my wrists for no one,
to wash away the years,
in the product of pain.

If I wash away all the tears,
your name will still remain.

So, I snap-to, screaming,
just one more night,

A cappella.

But the last voice I want to hear echoing in the dark,

is my own.

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