Living in The Morgue

It's the drop of doom
We lift our soul less bodies
From our white beds
Only black sheeds for blankets

Our bodies are either pale blue,pale green or grey
We have no names,only faces

We put on our simple clothes,ripped and ragged
No happiness lives here

We live simply in our town
No worries and no fears
Its dark
Its gray
It smells
It's the morgue