Akercocke

First To Leave The Funeral

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With honesty I repay you
With clarity I betray you
Place my hands gently
Over your ears
To save you the sound
Of my scream

A retreat into reverie
The ghost of hands held tight
If the eyes are closed
Perhaps you never walked away
Cold to the bone
Cold as a grave

The memories
The rain
The tears
The rain is a gift
From the night

When was was the last moment
No final touch
What were the last words?
No final words
When was the last glance?
No final look

From beginning
To end
These are the same stars
That watched you

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Akercocke en Septiembre