Year of the RatYou stood high out of reachthere at the top of the toweryou blew out the clouds, blocked out the sunno end to the pull and powera rope tied over the landsuddenly frayed and unwindingeyes, sharp as a warrior's bladebut in your own smoke you were blindedso come all you liarssaints and lost soulsone day's black is another day's goldit's a strange place to see you tonightbut it's all or nothingand it's gonewhat's that racket down on the streetis it the year of the rat or the sheepsmoke and sting, this chaos and reekthe hum and the haze of the hollowsit's a ruse, a line, between yours and minewe're dumping the body of evidencespread that paper, cover your eyesand flee to the walls and the shadows