The Slowest Rendition

I can hear those ringing bells again Carefully I check to see if I'm awake A formless mass that would not hold its form A crucial deviation from the norm To think I once would've welcomed in delight This chaos that flickers in the night I'm a passive audience at best Sentient and awake, for that I'm blessed Words and thoughts that once were my stock in trade Are strewn about like broken toys, mislaid Melodies and remedies and kindly advice I put them where I'll find them when the time is right A flash of light illuminates and gives me chills Maybe I'm just a stand in for some greater ills Maybe someone's pulling at my strings I reach above my head and don't feel a thing I throw and clash and rip and tear the scenery That only I and nobody else can see Mocked by something just beyond my reach On a silenced, barren, darkening empty beach They say that newborns experience their scenes Like psilocybin lysergic psychedelic dreams So, just like them I'm ready to be born again Who can say for sure, who can say just when I close my eyes, I know that I'll soon sleep The waking hours and questions slowly seep Into one another, in my mind they smother The tenuous reality, sneaking up on me I can hear those bells again I can hear those bells again I can hear those bells again A descending ending An ascending of the saint I will wrangle and wrestle Until suddenly it all feels the same Count the irregular heartbeat But the same dreams keep hanging on Call on the zombie damage But the same dream comes undone I am the derelict conductor Of the broken symphony I'm the amateur director Of the badly lit mystery Keep moving the pieces Keep shuffling the deck Keep singing the chorus Of the slowest rendition Keep moving the pieces Keep shuffling the deck Keep singing the chorus Of the slowest rendition Keep moving the pieces Keep moving the pieces Keep moving the pieces Of the slowest rendition Keep moving the pieces Keep moving the pieces Keep moving the pieces Of the slowest rendition