Sweet Voices

 

Right before the daylight

Has finally passed it’s time

Rises now a stricken voice

Begins its secret rhyme

 

A hunger so obsolete

Full of strange desire

A yearning beyond the grave

This night is to be dire

 

You’re seeking me

Behind my eyes

You see me

And I say

What is in my face

What is on my mind

 

Whisper now your wishing well

In a state of false denial

To a kind of makeshift hell

This night belongs the dyer

 

You’re seeking me

And I freeze

You see me

And I fear

What is in my face

What is on my mind

Oh, what is on my mind

 

I hear them calling

Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet voices

Voices, voices of death

 

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