My head is gasoline and it’s fueling on my dreams,
Don’t you know there is nothing you can do to stop the fire from blazing.
There is always going to be pain in the world of the dead and agony for the living,
Keep your faith close to your heart, for when demons come you will need what’s left of you.
Living is a blasphemy for those who sleepwalk on the path to the castle of hope,
There are no shortcuts for the cursed, no wings to fly across the echo, no funeral to mourn,
A bizarre parade of the living dead.
Grieving shadows eclipsed by Their whims,
In silence the frail words vanished with the weak,
None can see the Lost living,
Witnesses to their decadence,
Aware of it They are,
No action do They take,
Them the dead should be.