The Procession

The blood...
how it paints such a scene
foul routine pedigree
mouth agape, stuttered hands attempt to flail
and finally agree
her hearts ceases its rhythm
somewhere trumpets decay
in the front by the well wishing wishes that deny the stale smell in the bay
there, no one cry
place these over her eyes
we are broke and alone
we are broken alone
(Chorus)
She's inanimate
bloodless elegance
fatal fascination breeds a bloom of misery
helpless hiding tongues
bathed in revulsion
her lies unfinished
beauty wilting premature
but we cant be too sure
no we cant be too sure
reversed, always playing the part
of the boy left alone 
he proceeds to the road
beyond the home he'd learn to call his own
(Chorus)
one life for another
(Chorus)