Blood turns cold in the most weary heart
The heart itself, turns grey with sickly death
Knocking on the door, awaiting its time to depart
To leave this earth, and breathe its last breath

Hung on the gallows of your will
I gave way and crumbled under fear and guilt
Never again will I have a word to say, nor emotions to kill
As they are taken from under my feet and the life we've built

These are the words to my funeral song
You are the pen that writes down my loneliness
I am the walking dead that passes along
the lines on the paper do endure love's duress