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Cult Of Youth
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Weary
Drawing closer with most every breath
she had found the notion queer in fact
and left it by the bed
she had barely found a place to rest her head
we are not weary
we are not welcome any more
and if the dawn should never break
she found that she could never be
so full of grief
full of grief
She was thrown out with the dogs
and was feeding off their anger to a frenzy
as they vainly licked their chops
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oh so stubborn as an ox
She had grown to see the light
In the vanity of night
There was nothing but a handshake left to bind
she had blown it past the cobwebs of her mind
we are not weary
we are not welcome anymore
and if the dawn should never break
she found that she could never be
so full of grief
full of grief
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