Slouching through the alleys
Peel around the corners
Too fast to really notice
All the dead with their mourners

Ignoring as they're walking
To different dreary places
Like grey clapboard houses
Skin peeling off their faces

Hollowing out their conscience
To make room for memories
Drenched in tears and decomp
Looking back on those better days

Fogging up the ***** glass
To peer inside the mind
**** crusted onto dusty things
They didn't want to find

Putting away shameful thoughts
As if the bad things all died with them
Locked up in a secret box
Just waiting for their next victim