Tekster: Sevenchurch. Sanctum.

Cocooned within four walls I watch the world pass me by, silent scream inside me and my soul begins to cry. I see their laughing faces, outside looking in, betrayal in their eyes, sorrow all they bring. They offer me their secrets and tempt me with their lies, their voices softly calling, pernicious lullabys. Shrouded in the darkness concealed within, beneath, alone I face my conscience and i wrestle with my grief. Coldness seeps in through me, clock tick tock eternally. Seconds passing, hear me laughing. Time is healing, see me bleeding. Taste my sadness, feel my anguish. Void of meaning, light receding. This is the spirit sanctum. Fed from imagination. Spirit sanctum. Dark confession, burning question, mind regression. Misconception, apprehension, desolation. Assailants assemble, the vultures converge, enticing their kindred and tempt without words. Their promise compelling but my will is strong, line must continue and I must go on. No leave me. Please help me. Seeping stalking, cruel and haunting, hear their taunting, mind distorting. Galling, goading, thought corroding, mesmerising, hypnotising. Feeding, draining, penetrating, leading, baiting, darkness waiting. Downward spiral, time eternal, still be waiting come my funeral. Strength holds the key, confidence, find myself and be free. Cast aside forlorn pride, carry on. Fight, take control, paint my face, steadfastness in resolve. Hide my pain, heal mv wound, leave this room. This is the spirit sanctum. Fed from imagination. Spirit sanctum.