She struck the temple where my pride began to bloom
And turned my genius to a dark, geometric doom
She cursed the fingers that outspun her ancient laws
And left my beauty to the mercy of her flaws
Eight points of shadow on a web of bitter stone
A fragile architect upon a dusty throne
I hang suspended from the ceiling of her grace
The permanent reminder of her grand disgrace

But from the poison and the ruins of my spine
I weave a labyrinth out of every broken line
You took the vessel but you could not drown the art
The silk is pulsing from the center of my heart
I am the spider in the corner of your reign
The silent witness to the vanity of pain

’Cause I am the needle that pierced through the sun
The sacred pattern that can never be undone
My perfect geometry was treason in her chest
A mortal fracture in the concept of the best
Now watch the symbol of her jealousy awake
An architecture that the winters cannot break
You tore the fabric but the silk is in my breath
I’ll spin my circles in the corners until death

Did you fear the symmetry before my work began?
The fatal talent born inside a mortal hand
It takes a tyrant to destroy what she can’t beat
So watch my silver trap unfold right at your feet

’Cause I am the needle that pierced through the sun
The sacred pattern that can never be undone
My perfect geometry was treason in her chest
A mortal fracture in the concept of the best
Now watch the symbol of her jealousy awake
An architecture that the winters cannot break
You tore the fabric but the silk is in my breath
I’ll spin my circles in the corners until death