The Procession

The blood... how it paints such a scene foul routine pedigree mouth agape, stuttered hands attempt to flail and finally agree her hearts ceases its rhythm somewhere trumpets decay in the front by the well wishing wishes that deny the stale smell in the bay there, no one cry place these over her eyes we are broke and alone we are broken alone (Chorus) She's inanimate bloodless elegance fatal fascination breeds a bloom of misery helpless hiding tongues bathed in revulsion her lies unfinished beauty wilting premature but we cant be too sure no we cant be too sure reversed, always playing the part of the boy left alone he proceeds to the road beyond the home he'd learn to call his own (Chorus) one life for another (Chorus)