There is no comfort in death and that is what they will tell you.
But I am telling you, I am waiting on a better clue.
There is no pain after life and that is what I am scared of,
will there ever be a day to mourn the passing of the dove?
I am so worried for myself and that feeling isn't new.
This hurt grapples me like the stern grip of a pirate's worn glove.
And now I can't bear to escape in the stories that I knew.
What a poison to believe in, what a curse to let you love.