• I lay down as I remember
    A time so long ago
    Where we would walk the dirt roads
    Holding, hand-in-hand

    Every breathe would introduce
    The taste of dust and flesh into our mouths
    Over, and over again, we would smile
    As our breathes could be seen in the dying light

    We would walk, hand-in-hand
    As the jack-o-lanterns along our path
    Would smile at us, as the headless corpse
    Danced and jumped about at its line of new heads

    Choose one for himself, he could
    As we sat by and laughed as each one did not fit
    Untill he tried one on and smiled
    Because it was just the right size

    The whithered trees cracking base
    Introduced to insects and spiders
    As crows came to nest upon its dying twigs
    To devour the feast whom found its home there

    The dark trees were tinted red in the dying sun
    As we would hop over the rocks and blackened earth
    We would erase the clouds that hung overhead
    To paint pictures with the stars in the sky

    The hollowed corpses that lay about
    Cracked as their skin of dust and porcelein
    Cracked and fell, ribcage into itself
    And their faces touched the insides of their own necks

    We would walk into the forest of dead trees
    As they cracked under the sound of our footsteps
    We would cut them with the knives that we carried
    And read the letters they formed with their blood

    We would read their stories of why Hell was bad
    And what we could do to avoid damnation
    But the more I listened, the more I wondered
    Have we really done so much as not be damned ourselves?

    We would leave the forest in fear of their stories
    Only to return again and again, holding hand-in-hand
    We would cut our own legs to imitate the trees there
    And write out our own stories for each other to read

    With our mouths sewn shut we would smile at one another
    Only wishing we could press our lips together
    But in silence we would gaze each other in the eyes
    And tell our stories through our blood

    As our blood soaked the earth, leaving our stories behind
    We knew others would come to read them after us
    And pass it down for generations to come
    But we knew they would scarcely believe the words to be true

    Each step would always become harder if our hands seperated
    As the taste of dust and flesh was introduced to our tongues
    We wondered where all the villigers were
    But we knew they rested miles under the stone crust of earth

    Wherever that dusty trail had led us, it's where we our now
    And wherever that dusty trail continues to lead
    I may not wish to take another step
    In fear for what will leave my hands empty and cold

    Wherever that dusty trail is leading us
    I only fear that we should have long ago turned around
    I believe now that in all the years we traveled
    We just may have walked in the wrong direction afterall