The Mansion - Microphones

There's no end there's no glory

There's a slow resounding story

There's no place to feel certain

There's nobody waiting for me

There's no stand of trees

No morning

There's a curve without a warning

There is weird and lasting sadness

There's no large and lengthy warming

There's no heat there's no expansion

There's no door into the mansion

Lengthy warming sweet removal

Sweet expanse sweet and substantial

There's no flesh

There's no fingers in my hair

I see a tunnel

We built walls tall and solid between

The treasure and the shovel

I see an inn i see a fountain

There's a trail over the mountain

There's no wayside

There's no stopping

And the peak is wide and rocky

There's no ceiling in the mansion

There's no waste no hesitation

There's no crack of dawn

No morning just an everlasting warming