Tell me something true about myself. Seek me out where I hide. I have slipped silent, climbing to cornerless rooms, echoes chasing and laughing through the shadow, the only thing to reach me. Reflections of sound and life in a dim glass. There I stay, convinced of contentment by a fear so deep it curls up and rests in my soul. There I stay, blind in my tower of glass, weaving shadows and shades pale and flat. The curl of the strings Those Three hold remind me why I musn't turn my head. And all I have is the steady rhythm, the back and forth, the beating heart. My hands fly and back again, moving on the steady rhythm, and through the day and through the night I know the steady truth. I musn't turn my head. The glass is dim and dimmer still and still I hear the echoes. Seek me out where I hide; Those Three are are scrict yet blind. The mirror dims and echoes fade, my eyes are straining for a glimpse, and I am granted distant sound of sunlight shining as he rides. He will never know me. I have waited so long in this cornerless room to slip silent from the strings of Three and chase echoes through the shadow. I musn't turn my head. But I do. Though you never knew me, tell me something true about myself.