We Have A Dog To Exercise

When the old ghost of suicide

Creeps slowly back into your mind

Then everything is bleak and blurred

Down here in the short-sighted world

Yet, this time I have to insist

On the sharpness of the things I missed

This once so loyal friend

He's not that welcome anymore

White, fragile porcelain-boy

Some minor things shall be

Left unsaid, yes, you share

the strongest desire for beauty

As like all the "enchanted"

You are more than blessed with it

The boy is a prison-cell that

Like a child needs to be washed and fed

These are just two of the things

That I have a tendency to forget

The heavy smell of rotting flowers

Is chanting through the prison doors

We kiss the dying world goodbye

And leave it in good hands at the morque

Well, on the second day of excavation

Tell me, what did you expect to find?

Be careful when you scratch the surface

'Cause we all have a dog to exercise

We are not lovers, we are likers

We are merely hands and shake

There are just four from the list of the numberless things

Of which we're still afraid

We are not familiar

With the state of (y)our decay

Because this is not our line

It is not really our trade

All we know is that our feet are cold

And that our sticky hands are wet

And that we're here to bring you tidings

Straight from the choir of the dead

Look at the boy, oh, he really suffers

He's caught in fear and its distress

There's no point in looking at him for answers

Because he is a stranger here himself

The body is a prison-cell

That like a child needs to be washed and fed

There are just two of the things

That I have a tendency to forget

The body is a prison-cell

That like a child needs to be washed and fed

There are just two of the things

That I have a tendency to forget