The trees sway in the wind
Music pounds in my soul
The birds sing along to a dead man’s tune.
Just follow this labyrinth to my favourite haunts.
If you’re there you’re there
If not… who cares?
He lived in the past,
He was cold and hard
(Hide out; run far, far away)
He’s living in his head, resting behind locked eyes.
I’m wishing my knight could save me from this wasteland of a reality.
But I can’t keep spilling my heart for you.
It’s like knocking at a dead man’s door before an open grave just toeing the line.
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