Would you say that your life is strange? Wisdom, pain and flow All that I know is the sense of the gun in my face And I cannot trust them anymore Pen again, identity, we repent and retreat Author of your sympathy has had enough to drink I cannot down another truth The story has to end before it's all pretend With no more to transcend I'm coming home to life unknown Without the records or the milestones And they are terminus roads lined in black rose The grave remembrances of people that I've known Me the witness Sew the doll in a mourning deadfall Call him stitch puppy All that I see is the look of the knife in your back Which I could have tracked and foreseen Stitch and bind in record time No more than a crease Sticking to the long goodbye Guide them through their grief The avatar of empty is some cold comforting And I could help you mend But I don't want to pretend I'm staying home but not alone I have a backbone fused from the headstones And I am terminus, deafened to their tones The grace vibrations and sound hollows I've known Me the witness