|
Pile the bodies higher |
|
Climb to the top so the world can see |
|
The depth of your sympathy |
|
Worn as it is upon your sleeve |
|
Where's the true compassion |
|
In this vapid, sickly cult |
|
Of worshipping celebrity? |
|
Struck with my mortality |
|
Dazed by the reality |
|
Forced upon my eyes |
|
Dying from the time we're born |
|
But few are prepared |
|
To be told it's time |
|
Tell my friends I fought |
|
Tell my friends I struggled |
|
Tell my friends I gave it all I had |
|
There won't be any tickets to this funeral |
|
(the curtain is falling) |
|
There won't be any story in the news (silenced) |
|
No voyeurs masquerading as mourners |
|
There won't be any tickets left for you |
|
A single one's a tragedy |
|
A million a statistic |
|
And now it's all come down to me |
