Wax Cylinder Sonata (Deluxe Edition)

Maybe these paperbacks are cages With secrets bound beneath the pages? Between the lines the truth lies in the spaces The gentle winding of a clock and Automatons have started walkin' Now from beyond a metal army marches on A phoenix smolders in my head What if the dead are never truly dead A camera for her eyes This timepiece for her mind These heirlooms forsaken Reclaimed and made into my grand device With a wax cylinder sonata for a voice Illuminate my way with bricks of yellow A painted road to follow fallen hallows And through the forest haunted I sojourn forward dauntless for I know, I've no place like a home Though this could be my magnum opus My labor must remain unnoticed Swift as a ghost and blurred out from their focus A camera for her eyes This timepiece for her mind These heirlooms forsaken Reclaimed and made into my grand device With a wax cylinder sonata for a voice