Doors of many, as of few,
leading inside out, around and through.
Past forgotten, now as new.
A line dividing false and true.
This one and only room.
And as trapped as we are, its the devil we know.
The exceptions we make will never be shown.
To the rest of the world, all we touch turns to gold.
For a moment we freeze, but
if ever there´s a full moon breaking, its painting our faces.
We wont know which way the sky will turn.
Were at the blood eclipse and we cant look away.