From the Album: Drumming on the Walls (1989)
Patterns cross the floor with cars, as I slowly draw the blinds
I'm wondering what you've come here for. You know this light hurts my eyes
And I see only gray, It's not clear I'm lying
Patterns formed from words still fall, sentences spiral down
The conversation carries on; steel strikes stone without sound
My rest comes with the tearing of an eye. In a pause to blink it dry
Sleep comes fast. And I wait to hear the drumming on the walls
The soft light in the halls will still burn when I have pa**ed
I will be waiting for darkness at noon