|
When lonesome came over me |
|
A future shadow |
|
Her ghost stood there, sang to me |
|
Farewell, so long |
|
I'll awake you |
|
From this living sleep |
|
We'll walk the shore |
|
Where you were born |
|
And bedded me |
|
Although I cheat for the things |
|
March forward, my son |
|
A battle beyond frozen hills |
|
Only for doubters |
|
We will rise from the killing floor |
|
Like a matador |
|
The stained glass |
|
A bovine ass |
|
Can see right through |
|
Every truth-soaked lie |
|
Letters will trace every step |
|
Out of this world |
|
With every date, every date |
|
We will be where you will be no more |
|
No more |
|
The stained glass |
|
Or the hangman's ass |
|
Would serve you well |
|
Now we're comin' back |
|
Out of the words |
|
Of these ghosts |
|
We'll jump the gates |
|
And left to rise, we will rise |
|
We will rise from the killing floor |
|
Like a matador |
|
And the dead live |
|
May the dead live |
|
And the dead live |
|
What more can we give? |
|
May the dead live |
|
May the dead live |
|
And the dead live |
|
The dead live |
