At the morrow's
There is nothing more then a burrow
And since that is not only here
It is simply to fear
But bring out the beer
and we shall drink to you, my dear
There's no more weeping
But the pot is still leaking
I feel a burning
Of everything I am yearning
And the never ending fissure
O! If only to be measure
Every time
A hole is ripped open
In my soul
And I only to try and mend
But for this feeling to end
I must die and be revived
I start to feel a bond
Between me and that I fond
For this could not last
I am still sitting in the past
As the sail rises on the mast
She turns away
And all I feel is pain
Of a great heartache
Every time I put my eye on you
That hole is torn open
This time, not to mend
And for this pain to end
I must pray to a friend
For it is only an emotion
The hole in my soul
Is draining away
All the love, hate, passion, and joy
All the crying and depression
I have finally come to be... nothing
I feel nothing
Taste nothing
Smell, or hear, nothing
I have become nothing...
