Fly Upon the Wall - Beau

The mists are always swirling

Where the castle wall is cold

The night is not for dreamers

Or for schemers or the old

For they cannot escape from

The fog the clinging fold

The fog the clinging fold

The fog the clinging fold

across the wall

In fear or frustration

All the discontented crews

Gather in the glowing

Of the slowly burning fuse

And there are no surprises

Finding they themselves accused

Finding they themselves accused

Finding they themselves accused

before the wall

Unmatched in unimportance

All your neon towers rise

Crackling with images

And estee lauder lies

The paradox is heightened

For you need not advertise

You need not advertise

There is no need to advertise

upon the wall

They may take up all my papers

They may look into my eyes

But they cannot pierce my make up

Or break up my disguise

They check me with their mirrors

They mate me with their flies

They mate me with their flies

They mate me with their flies

upon the wall