bury your dead-sun moon star
no There's looking back
and don't ever look down
Is the only advice
that I ever have found
That's justified each day
with each breath that we take
While we're dying each day
from decisions we make

Angels brave the dying
years lost can't be retrieved
Regret, a constant, mourning
For those surrounding me
Angels brave the dying
years lost can't be retrieved
Regret, a constant, mourning
For those surrounding me
you're not getting older
You're just getting old.

My youth is wearing off.
Better to have loved and lost
Praying hands are tied

I look up to an angel's cry,
if the roses don't bloom this time
I'm bleeding their red petals dew off the dead

My pulse beats the blood of the undead.
My pulse beats the blood of the undead.
My pulse beats the blood of the undead.
My pulse beats the blood of the undead.