#1
C4C

When I die, what will I
Have written in memory of me?
Will you find
Enough words to tell the world what I mean?

Meaningless promises
Death has done us apart
False pretense, and consequence
We're taking a little too far

We'll be skeletons inside of boxes made of pine
We're reduced to names in stone and dates to mourn on
We'll be skeletons in boxes, and whispers in the back of your throat
That you'll never be able to utter again

Will I shake hands with lord again?
Or will my ashes get mixed with the dirt?
I'll fix the floorboard, that creaks every night in your sleep
So you won't have to wonder if it could be me

Meaningless promises
Running in circles again
False pretense and consequence
We took it a little too far

We'll be skeletons inside of boxes made of pine
We're reduced to names in stone and dates to mourn on
We'll be skeletons in boxes, and whispers in the back of your throat
That you'll never be able to utter again

We'll be skeletons inside of boxes made of pine
We're reduced to names in stone and dates to mourn on
We'll be skeletons in boxes, and whispers in the back of your throat
That you'll never be able to utter again