Even Though You Won't Be Dead

Live the rest of your life in 24 hours,
Then lay your weary head to rest,
Don't worry babe, I'll bring the flowers
Even though you won't be dead,
Listen to me call on you,
Hear my whispers on the breeze,
Feel the fingers of madness reach for you
To hold your mind and squeeze.

Don't you listen to the warning cry
That screams its way through the fog,
Rest your head on a warm, soft sigh
And sleep soundly as a log,
Let your dreams call on you
To give in to my advances,
Let me log into your weirdest thoughts
Through your darkest entrances.

I want to roam your catacombs
And enter the vaults of your desires,
To tune into your requiem
And help build your funeral pyre,
I'll bring to you a crown of thorns
To place upon your head
And leave a wreath of roses,
Even though you won't be dead.

Open up the bleak mausoleum
That holds your heart within its womb,
Let me see inside your shadow
That lays so still within your tomb,
Your deep dark eyes that stare at nothing,
Sunk within a maddening pitch,
Insanity weaves its webs of intrigue
Crawling around among your thoughts.

I'll light a candle to your memory,
Even though you won't be dead,
And you can listen to the psalms I sing
As I lay our love to rest
Within a grave of maddened turmoil,
Deep down within the cold, cold earth,
Don't worry babe, I'll bring the flowers,
Even though you won't be dead.