Hanging on the Glass CrucifixnLong as this mad dreams gone onenOver a half a score, 300 dark songsnImagine never waking up and never going to sleepnLiving in between is such a bludgeoning sweet thingnSo I let the stabbing perpetuate the darling mythnThat waking dreams’ are not walking towards a hanging cliffnNo longer deliverable to the arms of He on highnBlistering on that cross it gets so hot and then you diennI want to be awokennI’ve heard that voice nIt has spokennThe real me, so long forgottennHas emerged from the Big Empty BelownnHow long, how long have I lived in silence?nAn avoidance of all pain and all sorrownWhen horror is a daily occurrencenThat I masked with an antidote for today and tomorrownHow long did I stand mute and deaf?nStrewn about miles of landnSo bereft of any resemblance to the pastnDespite the tall, looming shadow the Glass Crucifix cast yeahnnI want to be awokennI’ve heard that voice nIt has spokennThe real me, so long forgottennHas emerged from the Big Empty BelownnCopyright 2007 Beau Phillipsnn