2 May 2012
[final song in a trilogy: The Cradle, The Palace, The Grave. All three have taken me the last four years to complete and can now be found on Opuss. I hope you find meaning somewhere!]
Age is a terrible thing In beauty and in pain Becoming wise and loved Becoming old and grey But pity is an insult of sorts Assuming that they feel Sorry for themselves Inhuman and unreal
And youth isn't easy either It comes in bouts and sways It burns you up like fever Then leaves you low for days And children can be cruel They say just what they mean Yeah, children can be cruel The way you are to me
You came, you stayed In a palace beneath the waves You rocked yourself to sleep From your grave will grow the tree You came, you stayed In a palace beneath the waves You rocked yourself to sleep From the cradle to the grave
I want my body buried Please don't burn my bones I want to move through the earth In many varied forms
J. x
The Grave • Opuss № I