It’s all irrelevant, where life’s moments went,
spent in this old shell of a shadow,
words weaved of wisdom even sound shallow.
through hollow eyes many gaze,
thoughts drip like rain drops on an empty stage,
and the sight of blood don’t faze me.
I’ve been down those roads to nowhere before,
left on love street,
and straight through the light of good intentions.
Not to mention the nights I fell in pools of my own tears,
puddles of raging fears,
where no-one remembers those burdens cried.
How many deaths does one soul die?
A name to a number, it’s never painless,
surrender to fables, who's really blameless?
Don't think if you link your shackles to someone's feet,
that you can retreat into your nights of deceit.
Dust in the breeze, worn from bended knees,
shoveling this hole to hell, where I’ll probably freeze.
For my heartbeats so cold,
and it’s so clear that many others know this heartache,
and I can’t fake what’s not known to me in truth.
So please bury me so I’ll know,
I already dug up my earthly resting place,
just rake the dirt back over the hole, so I’ll be whole.
Back to the clay I was made of,
all in the name of something called love.
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