The Procession

The Procession
The procession went smoothly,
the lights low and dim.
i raised my clear glass and i toast times to heaven,
but you're not the same love that i used to know.
well, i'll break this guitar and board up these windows.
just make sure they know that i won't return.

with my bloody lips, and your broken arms,
we'll turn into one and we'll sing the same song
. with my sinking feet and your heavy heart,
no don't you start. no don't you start this again.
this house screams of memories and half-written songs,
with the chance of completion depending on love.
this disconnected phone,
well,
it is seldom to speak.
although,
when it does its so harsh and complete.