Of The Room

White cloth, black napkins, wood chairs, surround me
Wood tables, foggy signs, in front with no liesNight falls beneath candle lightCast shadows, incense fragrance
From the corner of the room
Cloudy senses, stale light below, beneathNight falls beneath candle light
White squalls beneath winter skiesNight falls beneath winter skies
White squalls beneath winter skiesA faceless crowd of elderly beings
Roses sprouting, yellow glow
With sound conscience into the night, beneathNight falls beneath candle light
White squalls beneath winter skies