september roars through an autumn
and the silent dark winter howls  

back to the cold, dark and the rotten
and i can hear the reaper near and prowl

memories cut my skin with the sharp end
and the ghosts lurk beneath the stairs

and i lock myself in a box with my torment
trying to stop burning in this cold air


there's stark darkness everywhere
inside my skin, outside my mind
it's there on my sullen grin
in the voices i hear all the f'cking time

it's in the smoke i take in
it haunts me at that place beyond the pines

it's even in the dawn that's breaking
in all those yesterdays i've left behind


and i still hear the whispers
sometimes,
when i shut my eyes as hard as i can

pretending to be shut inside this darkness that knows not how to love a man

and for a moment,
silence becomes a long lost friend

until the end
until the end is here