The Dead
The dead walk the streets of time
The living lost in an hourglass of lies
My shadow and I are heading west on a rode to no-were
We take a turn left; colliding with masked zombies of silent dread
Its raining blood
Thunder screams
The dead walk the streets of time
The living lost in an hourglass of lies
My shadow is all that i have in this dead world
The infected pageant moon guides me though the lost
It was the American pie that poisoned them in there sleeps
Filled there head with maggots and radiation
Now there all rising, living dead
A quiet house
White walls with a maze of halls
Dust covers the floor; laughter the walls
It’s just me and my shadow falling though the floor
Porcelain faces with porcelain eyes meat us in the fall
There perfect faces smash into glass
Ripping out the hart strings of loves last breath
My shadow is the only one that stands beside me
Only the street trash now meaning of life
For ever wondering, for ever found
Keepers of the light house watch
Hide the children
Buried them dead and send them to bead
The dead walk the streets of time
The living lost in an hourglass of lies
Copyright © Erica Szabo | Year Posted 2012
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