Anglebrahd
Musicbox
Ashes to ashes dust to dustHer swing set chains have turned to rustHer playground gone and made anewHer photographs in shades of greyFelt strangely heavier that dayThey were ashamed of what they hidHer broken music box still plays thesame songs it played beforeHer rocking chair remains intactAs cobwebs slowly stop thespinning courses of little horsesHer rocking chair remains intactThe priest got up in suit and tieHe crossed himself and closed his eyesPrayed for luck and prayed for rainThe people all got up to singTheir favorite thousand year old hymnThe words were all underground
From Letras Mania