Quote:
/So that's how Christmas Morgue went. I'm sure if I was the kind of guy who stayed positive through thick and thin and wasn't so pessimistic, I wouldn't be thinking about any of this buffoonery./
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If the two of us were not quite like we are right now, not quite
Irregular? Not that. But something a touch more than rare, common?
If that’s the case, would there be such a snow? So wonderful and light.
We won’t find love, not in ourselves, if we were like that.
Of everything to ever…
You and me, a secret note
I’ll pray this prayer, tired, tired
When I laugh with you it’s like
There was no pain from the start to this time
That town small in the far distance
Still so small and young
“Look those blooms, the anemones!
See, blooming bright blooming oh so bright”
Lying down, a burial
The lies still echoing
Our footsteps that once walked together, now only greet through ground
The veronicas tap gently, harshly on the door of the morgue
A broken umbrella, in my hand, swingin’ back, in my hand
My left hand losing sight, distracted from grasping so tight
Still blind from the snow
The foot steps, I knew were yours.
The prayer uttered by me, violated, violated
Where to go, who’s to say?
We can’t go anywhere, I know that’s right
Like always, we’re at world’s end, a place so secret
“Look those blooms, the anemones! See, blooming bright blooming oh so bright”
Merry merry Christmas
But us two…
Won’t be back again…
If the two of us were not quite like…
If the two of us were not quite like…
If the two of us were not quite like…
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