Oh, what desolation you feel,
as fog hangs heavy in the air,
for gone are the sun’s rays
amidst the tombstones,
as you pay your respects,
and leave the flowers there,
for someone that you used to know,
and for someone who knew you cared,
for under the grey clouds above,
and in the light rain upon the air,
your tears fall gently,
as the birds are silent to a ghost,
and the passers-by they stand and stare,
and such bitter memories,
bitter memories,
oh, how they hang heavy and sombre in the air,
oh, despair,
it is such a mixed emotion,
that it does not care,
and how it wilts the soul,
and how terribly it ravages the heart,
and in the pain and the agony of it,
it stabs and it stabs,
and it bleeds you dry as it works its art,
and seconds after seconds,
minutes,
months and hours do pass,
cutting you up long after you have left the grave,
and leaving you with your mood,
your mood, still as black as your heart.
