Oblivious to the punches
Mysterious as the night;
Climbing over furniture.
It’s the actor’s delight.
He’s got a dozen different faces
Split like a broken mirror’s glass
Shards scatter across the floor
But the more you try to clean ‘em up
They keep scattering on the floor.
The glitter of a broken wine glass shines on the floor.
He stops the party and brings in a draft
And the ghosts of your past, they all
Ask ‘Hey, man, where you been?’
But you can’t answer that ‘cause
You’ve been wonderin’ the same thing.
Just floated under the bridge on the
Water spilled all over the floor
But nobody’s there to clean it up
You see the actor over there on the shelf
Watchin’ you with clear crystal eyes
He melts like candle wax
Dripping, melting, mixing with the world as it shifts
“Bad luck for seven years from a
Mirror if it breaks”
“Well, tough luck,” The Actor says. “I’ve already
Broke mine. Just wait- you’ll break yours, too
One day and know how it feels”
Then you’ll see that the actor has taken your face
Until you break your mirror, g’head and
Deny it. Here he is, straight from the grave;
A walking corpse here for your disgrace
Displaced by distaste
Oblivious to the punches
I take my place.