Lorna Shore
Flesh Coffin
We’re dead inside

Born of this body
For I have not chosen
This haunted life of mine
Far beyond the astral waves of time

Have I stumbled onto the final frontier?
Memory appears to be so very malleable
Now a tool rather than a gravestone to cling to
I am God

How is this possible?
I’ve spent these years perfecting the art of wasting away
And so it appears that death as they claim
Is not the final resting place

Onto the next life

My mind adrift as I weave through the dreams
Weeping before my past
Life’s not what it seems
I watch it all as it all comes to pass
Memories held within my grasp

As I bend all matter at the will of my mind
I see reality, we are all slaves to time
No longer pressed to this weight of this nothingness
Weaving in and out of memories that have chosen not to fade
With time awoken before these once dying eyes

Born of this body
For I have not chosen
This haunted life of mine
Far beyond the astral waves of times

How is this possible?
I’ve spent these years perfecting the art of wasting away
And so it appears that death as they claim
Is not the final resting place

Bury the bones, bury the lives
Bury the hope, bury the skies
The truth of it all
We’re dead inside
We’re dead inside

No longer pressed to this weight of nothingness
Weaving in and out of memories that have chosen not to fade
With time awoken before these once dying eyes

“And that is the terrible and the secret fate of all life. You're trapped by that nightmare you keep waking up into.”
My mind adrift as I weave through the dreams
Weeping before my past
Life’s not what it seems
I watch it all as it comes to pass
Memories held within my grasp
My mind adrift as I weave through the dreams
Weeping before my past
Life’s not what it seems
I watch it all as it comes to pass
Memories held within my grasp

We’re dead inside
We’re dead inside