We pull at the scars of tommorrow
the stars filled with sorrow
in this land of make believe
we try to achieve
what they have
no more of this
no more of that
the severed are tied
and dropped into a vat
the rivers of scorn
will reflect in the morn
we go to their graves
to sob and to mourn
their mouths open wide
the flies all crawl out
the shadows of time
the maggots fall out
we breath what we can
until we run out
our last breath is spent
on anger and doubt
to heaven to go to
no place to belong
but into the ground
and we have to be strong
tomorrow is black
and today may be the last
no resurrection
to the future or past