The Gossamer Under Grandma’s Window Pane (From The Tower Sessions)
Skydog Music
Respect is a definite word
Our grandparents always tried to push it
Yet stole from the poor
I tried to establish why mine hated him so much
The man who wore night
I never truly understood as a child
All I could do was stare at the hanging gossamer near grandma's window
And think of why the hatred was shining so bright
Respect always seemed so lost
In the endless forest of darkness
Never to be found
Inside grandma and grandpa's cottage