A misty chamber for a broken self   Whose world lies shattered on the floor   He has no friends just a grey-blue chair   His mind is focused on the wall   "desperation and gloominess   nerves are numb...fragments of a fettered sun"   There is someone who stays in the plain house   Like a pale weathered shade behind windows   There is someone who sees cruel pictures   While he walks down the road dead tired   He's waiting there for an end to come   It's so unjust that he can't leave   The aching tune of his solitude   Will always whisper through that night   "a mirror to wonder...words won't save me   flattering darkness...fragments of a fading light"