作曲 : Anna-Varney Cantodea
 作词 : Anna-Varney Cantodea
When  the  old  ghost  of  suicide
creeps  slowly  back  into  your  mind
then  everything  is  bleak  and  blurred
down  here  in  the  short-sighted  world
Yet  this  time  I  have  to  insist
on  the  sharpness  of  the  things  I  missed
this  once  so  loyal  friend  he's  not  that  welcome  anymore
White  fragile  porcelain-boy
some  minor  things  shall  be  left  unsaid
yes  you  share  the  strongest  desire  for  beauty
as  like  all  the  enchanted  you  are  more  than  blessed  with  it
The  boy  is  a  prison-cell  that  like  a  child  needs  to  be  washed  and  fed
These  are  just  two  of  the  things  that  I  have  a  tendency  to  forget
The  heavy  smell  of  rotting  flowers  is  chanting  through  the  prison  doors
We  kiss  the  dying  world  goodbye  and  leave  it  in  good  hands  at  the  morque
Well  on  the  second  day  of  excavation
tell  me  what  did  you  expect  to  find
Be  careful  when  you  scratch  the  surface
cause  we  all  have  a  dog  to  exercise
We  are  not  lovers  we  are  LIKERS
We  are  merely  hands  and  shake
there  are  just  FOUR  from  the  list  of  the  numberless  things
of  which  we're  still  afraid
We  are  not  familiar  with  the  state  of （y）our  decay
Because  this  is  not  our  line  it  is  not  really  our  trade
All  we  know  is  that  our  feet  are  cold
and  that  our  sticky  hands  are  wet
and  that  we're  here  to  bring  you  tidings
straight  from  the  CHOIR  OF  THE  DEAD
Look  at  the  boy  oh  he  really  suffers
he's  caught  in  fear  and  its  distress
there's  no  point  in  looking  at  him  for  answers
because  he  is  a  stranger  here  himself
The  body  is  a  prison-cell
that  like  a  child  needs  to  be  washed  and  fed
there  are  just  two  of  the  things  that  I  have  a  tendency  to  forget