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The Dead Man Lies
The Dead Man Lies
He breaths his last
Denying his death
Not wanting to go
Trying to slow
The inevitable end
That will transcend
When a dead man lies
He sees his fate
Thinks he's too great
To die like this
In blood and piss
And break away
Like the weak, decay
And be no more
Whimper, not roar
The dead man lies
Below he lowers
Beneath funeral goers
Into the ground
With not a sound
From the dead man's lips
As his soul slips
And all that remains
Are his remains
In a box where the dead man lies
