Death is a strange thing.
But when life is torturing...
Death whispers a soft lullaby.
A sweet and bitter goodbye.
An I’m so sorry to friends and family.
There’s still a place where we can be.
I’ll try to be there.
When you ever feel the horror and the torture that somehow some people must bare.
I know all about the suffocation of life and how it makes your body and mind feel too old.
Your cramping muscles too sore and your inside too cold.
No way to calm it down but I will somehow change it cause I must.
It’s something I do for me and something you have to trust.
Because there’s no other way and it won’t go away.
Even when I dance in a trance.
I need no more torture.
No more torture.

Death is a strange thing.
Death is living.
When life is torturing.
Whisper sweet lullabies as I’m crying, as you’re crying.
Please understand, I’m never leaving because I’m never leaving you forever.
And I care but it’s so dark and merciless here that it gives me a fever.
One I can only escape in a sweet lullaby.
In a sweet bitter goodbye.
Goodbye, goodnight, I love you, feel the sparkle, feel the warm embrace from behind.
I’m never gone you’ll find.
It will be another night for a moth lying on its side with its arms and legs on its side.
Wings covering its tiny body.
Exhausted and weary, feverish and a tickling cough.
Can’t keep eyes open, can never fully drift off.