Coming Back From Necropolis

Coming awake again.

back from the city of the dead.

Traveling at night with a hidden moon,

No one-way tickets sold.

The cost back home is deeper than these pockets can fill.

Clinging on to someone else’s will.

 

Quite a ride down a veil of tears.

Broken promises litter the streets like empty needles.

The streets are flooded and no one seems to be able to stop the rain,

And the umbrellas are all gone.

No sirens are heard because hope doesn't hang out around here.

 

Everyone's mouth is stitched shut,

So they won't lose their souls.

If you hear anything it's a painfully long exhale.

A stale wind that carries a thousand murmurs.

Brings a smile back to Death again.

 

If you touch the ground you will freeze.

A numbing cold seizes the tongue. 

That's why no one is on their knees,

And the singers are all mute.

 

The bar is full but the bottles are empty.

All the cafes serve food to people with no noses.

The hookers are all too old.

The drugs are all expired.

The records keep skipping,

It's all so painfully tired…

 

Faces sitting at the bust stop for way too long.

Just waiting, with broken watches.

And all the schedules are wrong,

And the signs are all backwards.

No ones dressed to go anywhere.

 

I want to hitch the hell out of here,

But I've lost my thumbs.