Consolatrix Has Left The Building

Strolling all alone... Across the ancient cemetery
Tell me, isn't everything here... Of a timeless green?
I see that several visitors are also gathered here
Having an idle, little saunter on the old graveyard just like me
I keep a candle burning for myself, so I won't feel all alone
We should have done so, but we never celebrated anything here at all.

A leaden weariness creeps viscously like syrup down the hills
Felling everybody... As it crawls upon the monuments
Only I escape its power, for the moment seem immune
Yet, two elderly ladies, guarding the right, the future tomb
Are scolding me, so filled with anger, filled with envy and disdain
"The dead are furious with you!
As you're wasting your precious time!"

Now there are faces in the carpet, there are people living in the walls
I hear the dead are calling: "sadness lies in wait in the hours before dawn!"

These moments, fleeting as they are, they testify to us
They are the silent witnesses of a season about to pass
I cannot but admit, carelessly ignoring life's finiteness
That I am filled with fear and worry... And so much shame because of this
Well, everything I see, yes all the images are blurred
It's hard to guess the future in the short-sighted world
How should this simple handicap be lightly well ignored
Considering the dreadful blindness with which I have been born.

We should have done so, but we never celebrated anything here at all
I hear the dead are calling: "sadness lies in wait in the darkest hours
Right before the dawn!"