With my eyes of glass all left behind
the frozen farmhouse landscape
tricks my mind to thinking that
the wind is some form of mind rape
on the frozen face that cannot cry
as it flees the burning lightmare
midst heavenly glow, it's mouth opened wide
the phantom figure will stare
roaring night on Christmas Eve
the santa thief gets careless
hesitate into disbelief
the sky is broken bareness
on the frozen face that cannot cry
as it turns an apelike shoulder
no more time to run and hide
the wicked wind blows colder
pockets stretched hands tightly wound
the frostbite fills the creases
deja vu, future rebound
the heart-chill falls to pieces
on the frozen face that cannot cry
I'd attempt to be where you are not
ignorant and unknowing
that your conscience lies in decay and rot
far from where the wind is blowing
but there on your porch: unrequited pain
my thoughts of you: subconcious rain
but it won't wash away the Balinor stain
off of the night
on the frozen face that cannot cry
pizza
