I listen, tonight.

Tell me stories with your light, 
or engraved mysteries of the worlds that collide. 

Tell me more of your endless life, 
kaleidoscopic outbursts against my strife.

Tell me what's in the gloom,
in that shady living room.

Can I convince them to smile?
At least once in a while.

Give me an arrow of hope predicting rain,
or a death-rod bearing pain.

Like one long sick electric dream,
I am awaken by the scream.

I keep expecting a knock on the door,
but the prince of sorrow is lying on the floor.

The graveyeard, the tombstone,
the gloomstone and the runestone.

Tell me more of your magic sword,
as you were carried heavenward.

I listen, tonight. 
I listen, to you.