It'll never happen - it'll never breath
it'll lay under the stairway
with a lifetime of debris
it'll never venture corners
never climb the stairs
it'll lay somewhere between
dreaming and despair

but the moon still shines on the prisoner tonight

it'll call for action
then it'll lay and wait
and fall asleep unnoticed
while the wind unlocks the gate
there'll be a missing portion
that could fill the unknown space
but it looks sometimes so different
so easily misplaced

but the moon still shines on the prisoner tonight

so easy just to forfeit
a life into a tomb
to strip away adventure
to fall away too soon
to fade away unchallenged
in some foetal frame of mind
do we serve some sort of purpose
beyond just marking time?

but the moon still shines on the prisoner tonight