House of Keys

A beacon called to me, with bills in the belfry
 An angel watched history sell the ringing bells of make believe
 I met a stranger, worn to worse, broken by the storm, who cursed;
 "Look into the mirror first, you are the same but in reverse"
 Extra extra, see the words they wrote upon the world You
 Tell your story through a pane of glass nobody heard
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 The clock struck none before they passed me through another door
 A herald painted grace fully, in Imperium's gallery
 Everything started to look like money
 The art, that charming capitulation
 The music sounds like desperation, buy me, play me, pay me honey
 My tender archipelago, just a speck through the window
 The better you less you see, you know
 (Post No) Bill's stuck in limbo!
 The paint flaked to reveal black steel beams underneath
 Tanks lit for delightful wars in never ending iron halls
 Behind the final door where nevermore hangs heaven's word for thee, An
 Instrument played by the wind, made by the masterpiece-machine
 The holy House of Keys fortifies techdromedes Only
 Time will tell you when to live, and when to die
 Waves made promise to the sand to push, that each new age would stand
 Above the last tides fading dream, to drive with purpose to the green
 Now dreams torn apart by time, repackaged new by Dr. Smile
 Look like the old ones we forgot, so jaded in our hands they rot
 He plays the hopeless like a fiddle, the world made to pass through a riddle
 Led astray, the blind apostle forgot what was impossible
 Medusa offers you a cheque, the key to heaven 'round her neck
 Torpid idols turned by staring, tender mercies cold to Charon
 Life lived on a gilded leash of opulence and gritted teeth
 Comfort and beauty assured; "Yes I will obey you sir"
 All the music that you hear came from a box inside a locked
 Factory where keys were built from plastic and they press themselves
 Cities crumble down to dust, burdened by the weight of lust
 
 Lured by reverence and fame, slums of exquisite remains
 Art marked with the masters seal is just a prison for ideas
 Under his watchful eye it stays, afraid to leave the golden frame
 You always thought there could be more, the truth is locked behind a door
 On bended knee, prone to behold, you strain to watch through a keyhole
 I didn't have an answer when the locks made quarter 'round my neck
 The tide pulled back as darkness fell, and so the sand lay still again