The Room That Wasn't Mine

[Intro: The sound of a heavy door creaking open, followed by a sudden, sharp intake of breath. The music is slow and haunting.] [Section: Jacques - Male Vocal: Low-register, Raw Marseille-Australian Accent, Solemn] I left the bar once... just a week ago. To find my own bunk... in the Bilge-Deck low. But the hallway shifted... and the lights went white. And I walked out of "Now"... in the middle of the night. My door was the same... but the room was "New." Cedar and silk... and a window with a view. There was a girl at the mirror... with gold in her hair. And she looked at my "Ghost"... with a terrified stare. She looked at my blue "Glow"... and she started to scream and cry. Seeing a man from the "Future"... with the "Blink" inside his eye. [Section: Jacques - Male Vocal: Low-register, Whispering] I backed away from the threshold... as the wood began to rot. Into the rusted hallway... that the galaxy forgot. I can't go back to quarters... I can't leave the bar-room light. Or I’ll fragment into "Maybe"... in the middle of the night. The "Vintage" is a hunger... it wants to swallow up the "Now." I’m staying with the bottles... I don't care "When" or "How." As long as the glass is breaking... as long as the cats are loud. I’m anchored to the Bilge... and the Blink-Dust shroud. [Short Instrumental Interlude: A dissonant, "melting" trumpet melody] [Section: Jacques - Male Vocal: Low-register, Whispering] I wasn't in "Today"... I wasn't in my bed. I was standing in a decade... that’s eighty years dead. I backed away slowly... as the wood turned to rust. And I ran for the bar... and the safety of the dust. I don't leave the counter... I don't cross the floor. I’m too afraid of "When"... is behind the next door. If I lose the "Linear"... if I lose the beat... I’ll never find the metal... underneath my feet. [Chorus: Solo - Jacques - Low-register] It wasn't my room! It wasn't my year! The Dramática is "Jumping"... and the ending is near! I’m anchored to the bottles... I’m bolted to the light! While the ship is dissolving... in the middle of the flight! [Short Instrumental Interlude: A dissonant, "melting" trumpet melody] [Jacques: spoken] As long as the glass is breaking... as long as the cats are loud. I’m anchored to the Bilge... and the Blink-Dust shroud.