The song of demise

[soothsayer]

Shape the issues of life

In your clouded mind

With shutters hanging

Thoughts fly like feathers

Between uncontrolled pauses

On the floor you rest

Restore your health

Under a thousand blackened nights

Only to get there and find I’ve gone

When you're just not in it

Who will you turn too

On your grand piano throne

Plucking out the tune

Of your slow demise