Bugs are picking at my skin
The ghosts are pulling on my limbs
I hear footsteps above my head
There's whispers that I hear being read
My mind is lost in outer space
My body looks out of place
I'm trapped inside a narrow hall
Six feet under in wooden walls
But you can't fix what's too late
We just move on
There are no last words to say
That's just the way things are
Bugs are picking at my skin
The ghosts are pulling on my limbs
I'm trapped inside a narrow hall
Six feet under in wooden walls
Sew... sew me with the skyline
The climb up to heaven is too high and at the gates
Angels bless the martyrs
I've only died for love and that's all my hands will show