You're slipping through our fingers,
Don't think there's anything we can do.
I'm sure it's the end of the line this time,
There's no way you can pull through.
Maybe if you'd listened
To all of our advice
You wouldn't be ebbing away
At the cause of your costly vice.
If only you'd have done what we'd said
You'd be happy and well and alive,
Just stuck to your flipping 800 mls a day
It's not that hard if you try.
If only you'd stopped smoking your brains out
And put the lighters down
This pain that we all feel inside,
These constant tears and frowns,
Would not be here, they'd be packed away
In their solemn box.
But now the furrows only deepen
At the thought of impending loss.
You're going, we have to bid farewell
And shield the youngest ones from the sorrow,
We have to say our goodbyes tonight
Because there mightn't be a tomorrow.
We've had far to many close calls
To have any more,
There's no more chances to be had
It's time to close the door.
There's nothing to be done
But choose the coffin wood,
I'm not ready for that day to come,
I thought it never would.
I can hear the banshee keening,
It's time to open up the pane
And cover the looking glass
So your soul it won't attain.
The wailing's getting louder
And she's got out her comb,
It's time for me to go now
And leave you two alone.
A tear is sliding down my cheek
At her mournful song's climax,
You breath in some fresh clean air
A breath that is your last.
You sigh tumultuously
And I see your soul expire,
As the pain lifts from your chest
And the banshee retires.
Just a shell, a pallid shell,
The old woman I loved so
And a new banshee is born in me
As I tear apart my soul.
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