Skin of the Dead

Should've known not to trust what's living

For all that lives lies

But it's those that lie six feet under

Who convey those truths as they die

Just because the dead can't speak

Doesn't mean that they can't tell

They hold truths kept in Heaven,

Hold truths damned by Hell

Know not to trust what's living

For wisdom is controlled

Death illuminates what knowledge life has never sold

Just know that life isn't living

Until you say it so

This label gifted and granted

Misused with exaggerated woe

As the dead slumber peacefully in catacombs

The living self-indulge

This realm of self-pity has left them dulled

They paint over the corpse to hide imperfection

A facade yet to bring suspicion

Peel away your vigilant ambition

And release your harbored regret

Embrace a destiny everyone will face

Fear not, for love lives on in death