On a snow cursed day, with a temperature so high.
the dead have never been so alive.
they'll walk the crowded city streets alone.
they'll see the rusted city of gold.
many will see them wander about.
they'll be dead silent with their infernal shouts.
why must they go why must they stay.
why must they sleep dead awake.
they'll breathe in and out without their lunges.
they'll speak fluently with cut out tongues.
they'll go underground to stay outside.
they're still so dead and more than alive.
