Will they ever see the truth to the story’s end?
He always told me that I’m just a friend.
Skinny boy, I thought I saw you when I woke up alone.
Pity and joy, there’s a battered body at the Grey Crush Funeral Home.
All you are now is a man thought once to be John Doe.
I dare you to call me a friend now. Oh skinny boy, where will you go?
Please tell me that you’re sorry, I just adore your moving lips.
At the Grey Crush Funeral Home the table flips.
There’s a page of my song missing; it was burned with his bones.
Confusion rains over the town, the streets, the pathetic little homes.
Death ceased the smiles at the morgue; your glazed eyes won’t rome.
Oh and how the treason caused such a sensation at the Grey Crush Funeral Home.
Your girlfriend cried as she swore she’d always love and miss you.
I had come first, battled with my insane jealousy, she was number two.
No more drunkened nights I have to see her with what should’ve been mine.
There’s no longer a crowd at the Grey Crush Funeral Home; now the sun can shine.
They don’t know what went on in the hotel room that fateful eve.
I took her companion; she doesn’t know you didn’t want to leave.
By ripping out your heart I ended the sorrow and stomped it to ashes.
At the Grey Crush Funeral Home the casket falls and crashes.