When we were young
Our minds could move mountains
Our bodies were strong to carry the world
We witnessed destruction
And we lived through a war
Our future was longer than our past ever was
We saw purpose where we hadn't before
So we lit a fire
So the world could see our eyes from the wreckage
We wore the ashes like scars buried deep in our hands
We lit it as a sign to the ones left behind of a future.
We had no idea what we were doing and we didn't care
At least we were there
In a life that is long
Hearts will be broken
Things will be lost and lies will be told
Fights will be fought
What you own will be stolen
Your body will slow
And soon you grow old
But we still believe
That the moments we live are forever
And we try not to think there's a moment that it all will end
There are lines that have formed that were not there before to remind us
Even temples will crumble it's only a matter of when
A matter of when
Every brick that's placed will be torn down.
And all of its worth is returned to the Earth and the sea.
And all you say will be forgotten someday
But I'll sit here and listen to enjoy how the story is told.
It's really all such a laugh
What we do for a good epitaph
All I'll leave in my will is a few pictures and bills
The rest you can do with what you want.
But my headstone will read
"Here lies a beloved guitar,
Buried with its hands which belonged to a man,
Who cold play it like a God damned machine."
You can dress me in clothes that I've never of worn to address you.
You can give me away to that freshly dug grave of my own.
You can say I'll live on in the hearts of the ones who remember
As I'm nestled away in my coffin, the color of bone
The color of bone.
The color of bone.