Next time we walk down to the docks while welcoming the morning sun, we'll share rations of bread with
Drifters and deceivers know I only see this hour after evenings of infamy
There are thousands of you like me and you'll be so so sorry
When you start to hate the sound of laughter grinding your teeth down to powder
How rewarding is it just to be alive?
We could have residence in the worse prison
That happens when you die and have no friends to carry casket in the saddest procession
Those people often say they're sorry when your soul departs
But they recover oh so quick