Without Guests

And the foolish dervish on the road said
"Without guests, all houses would be graves"
Well thank you dear,
You built me a grave

And my tears of loneliness turned to crystalline glue around the door
Stronger than all the king's horses' asses and all the king's men
I pounded but I am only a miracle-worker,
So I failed

And songs and songs and songs did no good
Not the joydance of faerie bells or a lament on the harp
There was not a word in any language that would earn me passage
Save one from your lips, which were silent

And I paced
Paced
Paced the place which wasn't too bad for a cell

And after seeing nothing but darkness
My eyes could not understand colour
My voice, hoarse as a hermit's
Soon remembered no names

So I paced
Paced
Paced the place and waited to run out of air