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This is a ghost town |
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Alive with the echoes of failures fled |
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Lit up by shining faces |
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That parade these streets |
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What used to be |
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Of humility is gone |
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You walk the mounds |
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Of skull and bones |
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Where living is denied |
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I see more movement in decomposition |
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Than in those hollow eyes |
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It is the only place I know |
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Where death is most alive |
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It is when truth is turned to lie |
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That death is most alive |
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Set flame to the ensnarers |
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And pierce that ornate shield |
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Branded by what claims you |
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You wear the mark of death |
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Tear from loss and agony |
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A character defined |
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Stripped of all but tragedy |
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What life is left to find |
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Go now, until there's nothing left |
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Go now, the dying has begun |
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It is the only place I know |
|
Where death is most alive |
|
It is when truth is turned to lie |
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That death is most alive |
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So I flee from all that is me |
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To hide behind this pale dead face |
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Whatever happened to desire, want and need |
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Whatever happened to integrity |
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Imagination is a curse in all of this |
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Whatever happened to the ones left behind |
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This is a ghost town |
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Bodies dragged through endless streets |
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Go now, to never return |
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I've seen more pitiful humiliation |
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Than you could never hide |
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It is the only place I know |
|
Where death is most alive |
|
It is when truth is turned to lie |
|
That death is most alive |
