---

In this deathbed I relish my tale of cancer and loss

Pen to paper, I control what you read and what you will feel

Dream weave and speak their nightmares

Bring them down with you

Pitch black tendrils creeping out from ‘neath the door

Chitters sound from somewhere in the shadows’ heart

Gold and glory

A shattered crown restored for you

Gold and glory

My brother bear, be bold and loving

This dark tale fulfills me

It ties loose ends - die of cancer

Can’t change it, we’re locked in and halfway through the album already

Glitches sparking from behind the bathroom door

Perhaps I die of old age rather than cancer

Change the subject here and now