Wish I could rest
My longing comes out
In a series of polaroids
When my dead spirit feels alive once again
I find happiness in tattered dresses
And torn cobwebs and coffins
The smell of the crypt is intoxicating
Yet the sound of the stone is harmony in my ears
The air is stale and coated in rich memories
New forests lace the dead with their roots
Old cemeteries enter the dreams of the living
I lay in the bones of my freinds
Desires of the crypt never leave me alone
Let me sleep
