Memories come flooding over me.
Out of the blue and oh so real.
Somethings calling but without a sound.
Will I look or turn away.
There's a choice to make to take the lower road. The lower road that you walk on your own.
Vultures gather but theres no remains.
The feast was fine and mine alone.
Just like grass before the sickle.
The honesty is hard to find.
We must bring back the dead and dance within their sorrows so when I wake and speak your name it sounds so hollow.
We must bring back the dead and dance within their sorrows so when I wake and see your face it's just a shadow.