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With faces in the window having storms in the night

You gave me promises they gave me pain
When will we ever live to understand this game
Give me shelter from the storm within cause we may never live again
In shattered dreams brought through its timely theme

Many are still wandering alone in the darkness of night

A plate of desire poured out with a creme sauce of desolation

At the mountain top the unique summit has a keen sense of view
Through ardent Spring lingers through a papal elect few
It's sought after portal of death as glue
Shutters through the spark at morn,

Some would even bother to curse the very day they were actually born;

A sought after portal which breathed in death
Yet still marked on its blotted page very much fully intact,

Working too hard can give anyone an instant heart attack
Smoke filled rooms filled up in fetters cry of full forced desolation;
In combersome threats the chief negotiator left,
A fields of dreams coming apart at the seams

A port in storm through emmense pain where through,

Give me shelter from the storm,
Amidst total sadness with stillness we soon learn to reflect
Just as in some twilight sun that has tainted my inner vision
Perhaps its in some one track mind that was fully set on some mission

The certain timely strain on the heart can light its inner spark;

Give me shelter from the storm amidst the sequence of outer pain,
In pain to harm the weary soul in which one can helplessly lose all control

Amidst viable dreams proned in an onslaught filled preminition
The sought after portal to death,
Yet still again marked on a blotted page fully intact
In timeless combersome threats toward their negotiable left

A field of dreams coming apart at its seams

Give me shelter from the storms of life amidst its inner strife
Amidst sadness within stillness will learn to reflect;
Just as in a twilight sun that has tainted my inner vision
Perhaps its in a one track mind that's head out on a mission

That certain spark within a strain on a heart can light a timely spark

Give me shelter from its storm
Very much haunted by an eclipse of the sun
Through a quaint rehearsal in its timeless cue
In distinguishing truth dismissed from its ultimate error

Many will escape into a quadratic motif through that of choice

A world filled still fixed in telling lies within its tormented souls
Broken skulls with fragmentation of vile demise
That quick fix challenge just not to have to deal with reality.
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