Potters Hill (Burial3)

Frantic are the thoughts

That seems to make no sense

Confusion is the nightmare

Of this present tense

Arrows without a target

With nowhere else to go

Destination is a secret

That the pilot doesn't know

On and on goes the merry-go-round

That doesn't seem to slow

Round and round the mulberry bush

Till I find the road

Please understand

Though you can't and neither can I

The road we travel has many forks

Impaled there we die

Here we stand in one place

Of things of could or might

Running fast yet never moving

Until we get it right

Who am I

I judge you not

For a judge not am I

For any answer I'd give

To you would be a lie

You hang me from the highest tree

And say my words are ill

And banish me to this unkempt grave

Upon Potters Hill

All I know is what I am

So I can not be that much

Haunting from within my head

Memories now out of touch

Houdini waves his magic wand

But the illusion fades away

Fairytales and enchanted dreams

Do not exist today

I ask for truth but expect a lie

For that is all you know

Clap your hands or a fairy dies

I how the bitch dies slow

Anger seems the one escape

From the cobwebs of it all

But I fear it's a bit too late

I've already started to fall

No lies are white

They dress in black

To mourn the truth they kill

So bury me deep within the earth

Up on Potters Hill

I can still see your faces

In every single fallen

Since you past away

Falling Falling Fallen

My angel lies

Crucified upon the earth

Since my angel died

All alone

So alone