What do you see when you look at a grave with a dead corpse?
Pale skin, shut eyelids, black suit, another lost soul?
A priest standing tall, claiming he's headed towards a brighter world?
When, may be, he's headed down a darker road
Then you find yourself asking, when's your time to go?
You grab someone you love and hold them close
Cause now you fear of what tomorrow holds
The truth hurts, we may not live to see hope
But that's life, God's a comedian and life's a joke
You find yourself, alone, in the zone, closed doors
Your heart leaves you
and you forget the memories you held close
You keep a pipe in your pocket so when it gets cold
The crack melts the soul, but every high has an end
The clock ticks, time flies, and you pause for a split second
ask the mirror, why do my days seem shorter?
and why do my nights seem colder?
The mirror laughs back and replies,
" You're getting older."