Between the Sheets of Byzentine

When I close my eyes all I can see is the pain I feel inside the wounded crevices of yesterday the caves of solid night and while the moon slow hesistates the shadows soon invite a woman bound and tearful, between the sheets of byzentine Every silent drop of silence is a sorrowful language of mourn and all her laughter lines of yonder have turned to solid clay she's lost her spark for life for his tender arms no longer hold the shivering body of her frame , now thats a crying shame... And so the magic stars of night begin to shine to no avail he's turned her inside out and left her shades of gray the pillows bare and the comforter is wrinkled and unused she winds us feeling sad, discomfortingly abused... When I close my eyes all I can see is the pain I feel inside all the shadows of the night accomplices of fright and as the moon glides by and hides away her light she cries, between the sheets, of byzentine ...