everyday of my life my friends were called the walking dead yea bloody corpses that's what my dad always said
i never had a friend that was ever suppose to live but how am i suppose to forgive the gift that god gives
and every time i dream and find out that its not true i think about how things would've been with me and you
but then i cry because i know your dead to me i cant believe you said to me the things you did
but I'm not mad tho I'm just a little depressed
and all the rest what they say is just lies i hope they disappear who are they to tell me what we had just died
so i despise their souls even tho they might be right
in latter days we'll be together I'll close my eyes and take to flight