Lorna Shore Flesh Coffin
We're dead inside
Born of this body
For I have not chosen
This haunted life of mine
Far beyond the astral waves of time
Have I stumbled onto the final frontier
Memory appears to be so very malleable
Now a tool rather than a gravestone to cling to
I am god
How is this possible I've spent these years perfecting the art of wasting away
And so it appears that death as they claim is not the final resting place
Onto the next life
My mind adrift as I weave through the dreams
Weeping before my past
Life's not what it seems
I watch it all as it all comes to pass
Memories held within my grasp
As I bend all matter at the will of my mind
I see reality we are all slaves to time
No longer pressed to this weight of this nothingness
Weaving in and out of memories that have chosen not to fade with time awoken before these once dying eyes
Born of this body
For I have not chosen
This haunted life of mine
Far beyond the astral waves of times
How is this possible I've spent these years perfecting the art of wasting away
And so it appears that death as they claim is not the final resting place
Bury the bones, bury the lives
Bury the hope, bury the skies
The truth of it all we're dead inside
We're dead inside
No longer pressed to this weight of nothingness
Weaving in and out of memories that have chosen not to fade with time awoken before these once dying eyes
And that is the terrible and the secret fate of all life. You're trapped Like a nightmare you keep waking up into
My mind adrift as I weave through the dreams
Weeping before my past
Life's not what it seems
I watch it all as it comes to pass
Memories held within my grasp
We're dead inside
