Sun-Less - Funeral For A Friend

Broken hands, so sans soleil

It lights my way through these

empty streets at night.

Dragging heels, the cold air stabs me

like a needle running with this thread

Scissors cut me dead and gone

living like the blade I carry

I never thought of you

living all alone,

scissors cut me dead I never felt

like anyone could ever be

so far from home

The day begins

when the music ends its days

like these that I

wish I were somewhere else.

And I can’t forget my own name

replace it with a voice

that carries on.