Night has been tainted to gray,
Clouds that carried all dismay,
Electrons triggered sparkling display,
I run close to them and pray
ELECTROCUTE ME!
Voids in a tiny atom,
In it lay a minuscule phantom,
Passed on its charge with a collision,
I put my fingers in the socket and scream,
ELECTROCUTE ME!
Past a dying field’s boundary, It sails,
Its intensity never bound to fail,
Transfer your energy through my face, pale
Like a new born infant I wail
ELECTROCUTE ME!
What will you do when the world starts lampooning,
What will you do when tears stop rolling,
What will you do when fate starts betraying,
Would you look out for a man to
Clear the blood on your lips?
Through the webs you cut past fighting,
Naked, you slept on the thorns smiling,
Scarred by the world that enjoyed your screaming,
All this pain you bore for a man to
Clear the blood on your lips.
You rummaged past places where your shadow deserted,
You cantered through avenues where embers died,
The mirrors showed way towards where your sanity fled,
All those red eyes searching for a man to
Clear the blood on your lips.
On the bed of satin, you roll with an untrue zest,
Another man leaves you with taint on your lips,
You clear the windows of their morning mist,
But where is the man to
Clear the blood on your lips.
There was someone when your sanity fled,
Fettered in your heart when it bled,
Passed-by your eyes when they were red,
Begging for a chance to
Clear the blood on your lips.
Have a glance at the glowing trenches in your heart,
Buried in the horizon of your ignorance,
Throwing light to poke your blindfolded eyes,
Lay the man who could
Clear the blood on your lips.
Shiny gloss spread over her lips,
Silky robes wound round her hips.
The little girl, she ran all over the place,
The mirrors, played with reflections of her face.
Transperent walls exposed the world outside,
Her face turned red for she was on the wrong side.
The stairs were mazes, but all led to a final door,
And it was locked, serving a defeat at fore.
O! she’s the girl in the glass tower,
Who is searching for a new power.
She’s the girl in the glass tower,
Who is shining but a bland flower.
Her prayers answered, the doors were unlocked,
She ran to the other side with her flag unfurled.
Chains were cut loose, but truth was naked,
This world was always drenched with the wicked.
The ground beneath loved to subside,
The ways were all blocked and she couldn’t hide.
Sucked into this muddy pool of woes,
Where fear of freedom only grows.
O! she’s the girl escaped from glass tower,
Whose fortress was shaken by the demons.
She’s the girl escaped from glass tower,
Stung by the bees that made lust.
The flag she wavered was torn,
She returned to her world called forlorn,
You still shine like a bland flower,
There will be a day that turns you sweet.
But the bees of lust, hungry to fill their combs,
Hover around for pieces of your petals.
What can you do with your minute power?
Glance from the creeks of your ruined tower?
O! you poor girl in the glass tower,
Broken mirrors are your lovers.
O! you poor girl in the glass tower.
Prisoned in this gaol for loners.
