|
From the museum of sleep |
|
Unliving eyes see death's subtle jest |
|
In my sorrow they mourn the past |
|
Yet celebrate their eternal rest |
|
Relieving the worlds pain |
|
In a church of misery |
|
Dampening the lantern flame |
|
Upon your bended knee |
|
Painted skulls |
|
Painted skulls |
|
Warm and close the air runs hard |
|
Around the loyal gravesite |
|
Wailing moon in a putrid sky |
|
Hungry and eager tonight |
|
Our cries pierce their world |
|
An invocation to mourn |
|
Celebration, fete for fate |
|
Of unearthly dead souls reborn |
|
Like a slime trail of a slug |
|
Transgress to the husk |
|
Unburied souls in restful bliss |
|
Bursting forth from crust |
|
Stale the stench of arising souls |
|
In ritual macabre |
|
Drag you down infuse your mind |
|
By blade or poisoned barb |
|
Painted skulls |
|
Painted skulls |
|
The festival end now they sleep |
|
Shrouds of pain another year |
|
Return to their boneyard |
|
We surviving ones await in fear |
|
Mourning unsurpassed |
|
To the bitter end |
|
Broken dreams and broken lies |
|
Painted skulls, the children cry |