A pale night, an empty page,
a word that lies awake,
A word that tries to give the
hope that i'm about to take
A doped tongue, some thick red ink,
another leaden cry,
Another word that tells me
life's just a four letter lie - so listen...
Where i'll go, i'll go alone,
writing letters to the living -
tears and ink all spilled in vain...
Won't speak, won't shout,
but my words will mute the world,
Line by line the letters death
and pestilence will hurl
But letters to the living are
letters left for dead,
And letters like the ones i'd write
should better stay unread - so listen...
Where i'll go, i'll go alone,
writing letters to the living -
tears and ink all spilled in vain...
