Quietus Dreaming - Part Two: Through Funeral Eyes

Alone
And cold
At my own
Funeral
I sit in the front row
Where lost souls are forced to go
Inside
I cry
As I view this life
Through funeral eyes
How I wish I could die
But the front row is where I reside

Above my head, in the dirt
The mourning sun’s dressed in black
In my solitude, I hurt
I know I won’t be coming back
My blood still runs red
Six feet under sacred ground
Although I’m alive, I am dead
Lost, I know I’ll never be found

With hindsight, I reject my life
These feelings they cut just like a knife
They thrill me and then kill me

Bury me deep deep down
Find the heart that cannot be found
Then mourn me, oh adorn me

The mourning sun rises to fall
As the nights stars drift and die to crawl
The sky does weep, tears fall at my feet

I can’t tell her how I feel
And the feeling makes me feel so ill
I love her, oh love hurts

Hope leaves me
Cold, not breathing
My heart’s stopped beating
Bleeding in the snow
Happiness deceiving
Cold, and unhealing
My funeral’s misleading
I warm the front row
He left us
To burn like dust
My heart cannot trust
The lies of mankind
She fails to notice
Her smile is my bliss
I cannot take this
The truth stuck inside