Ash buried graveyards what sick thoughts I have of you on these nights, These nights where I dream of love and hope to die in my sleep The sky falls vivid and streaked with incendiary demise and I keep steady the best I can under the weight of total collapse But here the dead bare the weight of suns within their broken chests and I am still hung up on my same belltower clockwork systematic ******* Awake, remember, sleep, forget Purgatory cycles in ash tray limbo wrapped in the tea leaves of misplaced fortunes Irreverent shadows tripping lucid dream aneurysms down both ends of the block And ******* fathers moving dope from greed to desperation to section 8 prisons The headlines on the marquee monoliths read: "There is nowhere to go but up" And this is the junkies last thought before he trails off into the sweet kiss of sunset This is the last thought I have before I put down the pen and lie to myself that I've done the best I could What did you expect, honestly?