The paint is falling off the walls
Crawling like spiders on my skin,
Their little legs know all my secrets.
They sink their teeth into my blood
And drain my body all to dust.
The heat goes even through the ceiling -
I see this skeleton as my protection
Against the fangs and claws outside.
All alone sleeping on the pavement.
All others rise from tar and walk on hooves
Untouchable and far away,
Their skin of iron waiting to stab you,
Their eyes on you but thoughts all hidden,
The smile cut deep into their cheeks,
The speech is kept under control -
It's inexistent, it's evanescence
You keep on guessing from their habits:
When it hits the spot twice and the same
You hide the Iron Maiden behind the paint!