The Procession

The blood, how it paints such a scene
Foul routine, pedigree
Mouth agape, stuttered hands attempt to flail, and finally agree
Her heart ceases its rhythm
Somewhere, trumpets decay
In the front by the well, wishing wishes that deny the stale smell in the hay
There, no one cry
Place these over her eyes
We are broken, alone
We are broken, alone
She’s inanimate; bloodless elegance
Fatal fascination breeds a bloom of misery
Helpless hiding tongues, bathed in revulsion
Here lies unfinished beauty, wilting premature
You can’t be too sure
No, you can’t be too sure
Reserved, always playing the part of a boy left alone
He proceeds to the road beyond the home he’d learned to call his own
She’s inanimate; bloodless elegance
Fatal fascination breeds a bloom of misery
Helpless hiding tongues, bathed in revulsion
Here lies unfinished beauty, wilting premature
You can’t be too sure
No, you can’t be too sure
(One life for another)(x24)
One life for another (x23)
One life for another! (x6)
She’s inanimate; bloodless elegance
Fatal fascination breeds a bloom of misery
Helpless hiding tongues, bathed in revulsion
Here lies unfinished beauty, wilting premature
You can’t be too sure
You can’t be too sure