Seneca's Silence

Oh it touches, itches, bites and wastes the time
Trying not to be in love with what is mine
With sirens singing
All the big things that we hate, we cry about
Will turn to gold if just leave them out

Then lets hope his silence is with us tonight
I'll bing the camera - can you hold the light?

The dusty pages of the book that wakes the dead
Say don't hold dear the timethat we once had
It's a pleasure waiting for the things to come
A little patience and the blood will run

Then lets hope his silence is with us tonight
I'll bring the poisen - can you bring the knife