Things I try to lock inside too ugly to bare Find a seam inside my dream and begin to tear Through my eyes they come alive and beckon for a stare In your throat I hit a note for Beelzebub to hear And the silence weeps for which of us will leave with something worse oh what a beautiful curse Take me out and put me down Im dying for a cure In this room a tortured few feast upon a spur No one sees the artist weep the bounty of his worth And desperately try to breathe and dig until it hurts And the silence weeps for which of us will leave with something worse oh what a beautiful curse Brother can you shape these hands and teach em how to feel Something more than how to scorn or burn you in a deal Who needs games or tempting fate when you know how to steal I see in you the same old fool I was when things were real And the silence weeps for which of us will leave with something worse oh what a beautiful curse
weeps, curse, worse, silence, beautiful