We Have A Dog To Exercise

When the old ghost of suicide
Creeps slowly back into your mind
Then everything is bleak and blurred
Down here in the short-sighted world
Yet, this time I have to insist
On the sharpness of the things I missed
This once so loyal friend he's not that welcome anymore.

White, fragile porcelain-boy
Some minor things shall be left unsaid
Yes, you share the strongest desire for beauty
As like all the "enchanted" you are more than blessed with it.

The boy is a prison-cell that like a child needs to be washed and fed
These are just two of the things that I have a tendency to forget.

The heavy smell of rotting flowers is chanting through the prison doors
We kiss the dying world goodbye and leave it in good hands at the morque.

Well, on the second day of excavation
Tell me, what did you expect to find?
Be careful when you scratch the surface
'Cause we all have a dog to exercise.

We are not lovers, we are LIKERS
We are merely hands and shake
There are just FOUR from the list of the numberless things
Of which we're still afraid.

We are not familiar with the state of (y) our decay
Because this is not our line, it is not really our trade
All we know is that our feet are cold
And that our sticky hands are wet
And that we're here to bring you tidings
Straight from the CHOIR OF THE DEAD.

Look at the boy ... Oh, he really suffers
He's caught in fear and its distress
There's no point in looking at him for answers
Because he is a stranger here himself.

The body is a prison-cell
That like a child needs to be washed and fed
There are just two of the things that I have a tendency to forget