The Great Skeleton

A song about death and faded roses and various other emoxcore icons.

The great skeleton of open graves and palms
Sits on the setting sun, singing his twisted songs
The misfortune of eyes cursed to stare upon him
The buzzing of new life as of now unfamiliar with his sting

And we, perched upon the tombstones, wait his lingering grasp
As he sets out to find a new friend, a daunting earthly task
With each passing moment sliding up his wet and tired spine
He fixes these old trees and straightens up the line

The great skeleton of quarrels and hot tears
He has bereft us of answers; he has tasted our fear
And now he must deal with things you can't deal with
Truly, his only regret

And we, watching from the havens, alert our brothers
Because through his gasps for air there surely comes another
Time and place and babies ready to bloom
His heavy heart sags as he speaks
"This is nothing but business," he croaks, "Hardly doom."

He passes us by with each angry fist
And each setting sun

Author's Note

What a nig nog gon do?

Reviews

[Danielle Renee]

I like this, it's really good and eerie.