Enter the creaking house.
Isolated from life.
A warm home for the mice
And an abandoned boy.

His only friends were mice.
A life without much light.
Cut off from the world.
A motionless full stop.

An exciting stare off with the dark.
Oh but how he dreams of dreams.
Of what other things are out there.
Bustling sounds beyond the walls.

He’s got space and he’s got time.
In the sockets where his eyes should be.
It’s a strange tragedy, a genetic anomality.
He’s got space and he’s got time.
In the sockets where his eyes should be.
It’s a strange tragedy, a genetic anomality.

Having been given eyes
By his mousy friends.
He went out to the world.
To see the sights and scenes.

Returning to his home,
With a newly acquired
Pessimistic view.
Says he’d rather be blind!
"Than to see this awful world," he says.
"Filled with horrid creatures.
A marathon of life and death.
Spiraling pikes of black and grey."

The world is grey, the world is dead.
The world is full of grime and filth.
It’s a sight worse than hell.
It’s a nightmare coming true!
The world is grey, the world is dead.
The world is full of grime and filth.
It’s a sight worse than hell.
It’s a nightmare coming true!

His gratitude was sparse and dry.
Not a word of thank you to the mice.
Spiteful, the mice crawled up his face.
And with their claws, they scratched out his eyes...
Off his silly head!

He’s got space and he’s got time.
In the sockets where his eyes should be.
It’s a strange tragedy, a genetic anomality.
He’s got space and he’s got time.
In the sockets where his eyes should be.
It’s a strange tragedy, a genetic anomality.

Watch "Steampianist - The Botanist feat. Oliver" on YouTube
https://youtu.be/Fdjb56uuVb8

A botanist
Wearing green gloves
Is passionate for flowers
But he’s allergic to humans
So he stayed within his lab

One day in his lab
Through the windows he saw
A flower-like lady
Who caught his heart at once

She was not like the others
She was venus made flesh
Oh, but she’s allergic to flowers
So she strayed from The Botanist

He watched her all day long
From the windows of his lab
Oh, it was love he was sure
So he had to make her his

He went out his lab
In a gas mask at night
To see the lady he loves
He crept up her room
And filled it with gas
Then took her to his lab

She awoke in his lab
She’s groggy still from the gas
The botanist was staring at her
With a grim intention in mind

He watched her all day long
Through a cylinder glass
He felt love he was sure

But there was one thing wrong
With the lady he loves
She has human flesh
“Worry not for I will make you bloom”

He watched her all day long
Through a cylinder glass
The botanist was delighted
And felt a wonderful feeling of love

A botanist wearing red gloves
Is passionate for a flower
His flower is withering away
But for now, they have to run away

Watch "Steampianist - The Umbrella Salesman - Feat. Vocaloid Oliver" on YouTube
https://youtu.be/-cIP8OTJYRI

A busy young salesman
Goes from door to door,
Selling magic umbrellas!
See such wondrous sights!
But no one believed him,
Not a single word he said.
He knocked on all the doors,
But no one answered him.
This left the man depressed.
For no one bought an umbrella from him.

Then, One day it rained.
So, The man used his umbrella,
But, Oh, It had some holes
And rain water poured over him.
This left the man in the cold.
He's all alone in the world
And people doubt his umbrellas.
They doubt it's magic!

No one wants his umbrellas.
Theres no such thing as...
Magic!

So, The man found his way to the top...
Of a forty foot building...
As he gazed upon the city,
The people look to him...
He's determined to show them all.
He will prove his umbrellas are magic.
With a firm resolve,
And a strong, Clear voice.
He shouted out his...
Sales pitch:

Float up to the sky above you!
It's a real birds eye view!
See Comets and Shooting Stars!
Come and lay on the Silver Clouds!
Come with me!
Let us bask in the Great Sun!
Radiant light that warms our souls!
Take my hands, We shall reach the Heavens!
Let us walk the Ethereal
Fields!

Everything stood still.
The city was silent
Did the umbrella work?
Everyone was lost for words,
But the salesman did in fact...
Touch the ground and felt the sky.
Then, The people took each an umbrella
And left the money on the
Ground.

Watch "Steampianist - The Logical Pink Gizmo and The Gingerbread Man Feat. Oliver and Gumi" on YouTube
https://youtu.be/9jlBf9DYLuM

The smell of the sick
A nauseating splatter
It scrapes it cracks and clatters
An empty silver platter!

Its mottled and its tabby
I don't know who to blame
A logical pink gizmo
Spitting out soft noises

Its a magician of sort
Conjures up the next world
People on pedestals
Are taking turns to be god
Taking turns to be god

There's alternating stitches running through my head
Oh no!

It can run but it can't hide
No point picking up the pace
My legs are kind of weak
But I will catch you soon!

Setting up a trap or two
For that sapid gingerbread man
It can run but it can't hide
Yes it will crumble soon
And by then I'll be sane

A ruse a sham a trick a trap
The gingerbread man's last stop
It scrapes it cracks it clicks it clacks
The empty silver platter

Its raw its sweet its sour spit
The gingerbread man's luscious taste
The jelly chunks and slags of meat
The scent attracts the rats and worms

And I'm a magician of sort
I conjure up the next world
People on pedestals
Are taking turns to be god
Taking turns to be god

Bloody hell

It can run but it can't hide
No point picking up the pace
My legs are kind of weak
But I will catch you soon!

Setting up a trap or two
For that sapid gingerbread man
It can run but it can't hide
Yes it will crumble soon
And by then I'll be sane

Watch "Steampianist - Twaddles of a Flue Faker - Feat. Vocaloid Oliver" on YouTube
https://youtu.be/UI5UeDiTdRg

I am a portrait which leaves you sighing sadly
Oh Laissez Faire what have you done?
I want to run away

The nobblers nailed my feet on the floor
Its starts to rust and attack my blood
I start to feel myself smile
Slowly losing myself
But it did not do the trick
Oh woe is me
Oh can't they see that

I am a portrait which leaves you sighing sadly
Oh Laissez Faire what have you done?
I want to run away
For I am that portrait that leaves you sighing sadly
Oh Laissez Faire what have you done?
I want to run away

It will be a wrack up I'll make sure
When they stick me up the chimney
And now the air escapes me
Slowly losing myself
But my master dragged me back down
Oh woe is me
Oh can't they see that

I am a portrait which leaves you sighing sadly
Oh Laissez Faire what have you done?
I want to run away
For I am that portrait that leaves you sighing sadly
Oh Laissez Faire what have you done?
I want to run away

I'll be paper thin and pale
The "Scurfs" took my life away
I'm patiently sedated
And now my only exit is
Is the cold
Is the cold poetic... Scythe

For I am a portrait that leaves you sighing sadly
Oh Laissez Faire what have you done?
I want to run away
For we are a portrait that leaves you sighing sadly
Oh Laissez Faire what have you done?
We want to run away

A thud sounding softly
I secretly disintegrate
Uneasy lamps draw back and forth
I've waited
For so long...