Kinkakuji and Snow

Sitting up late at night, I tiptoe through the 
darkness.
Cold as hell black as spades, aware of my immediate surrounding.
In my place I escape up into my 
hideout,
hiding from everyone. My friends all say
Dave your mental any way. 
Hey!
Drift into a deeper state I stalk the cobwebbed 
stairways.
Dirt grits beneath my feet, the stair creaks, I precariously sneak.

Hypnosis guides my hand, I slipslide through the 
walkways,
sit in granny's rockin' chair. Memories are whirling by 
yeah.
Reminisce in the attic, Lucretia waits 
impatiently.
Cobwebs make me squint, the cobra so eloquently glints.
Moonbeams surge through the sky, the crystal ball's 
energized.
Surely that like the cat, 
waiting,
Lucretia rocks away