Creaking and cracking,
shaking and rattling,
the skeleton follows.

Hanging like a shadow,
or like a dead man in the gallows,
the skeleton follows.

With a blank expression,
that's quite frankly depressing,
the skeleton follows.

Just a memory,
of what I use to be,
the skeleton follows.

It aimlessly wallows,
with a body that's hollow,
the skeleton follows.