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Dead End Road, He Walked (Lunarsea)

Road going up hill under our feet Following six men, he see a coffin on their shoulders The first of the long row in this tiresome afternoon From the pulpit a few voice, one by one they come up Through older pages, distressed painting on every wall, behind every bench Growing numb of nobody, things are still worsening After mass he takes hundred of coundolice's kiss Road to cemetery he walks in a little rainy day of cold Where is the grave to put down soil? where is the map of this sad place? He is carrying dreary afternoon under his arms Marches to sacred field are beginnings He's remembering days gone by almost evening time, 2 hours counted in half life The bigger pilgrim was closed in the bathroom Thinking how to go there as barefoot penitent He wanna eat a white disk... His sudden impulse of faith never tested before Growing numb of nobody things are still worsening Tomorrow sufferings are over. where we are... where we are...