Dellamorte, Dellamore

You'd think I wouldn't miss you
But your persistent voice cuts through me like glass
Memories of not so pleasant times soon to kill me
Like well-aimed daggers thrown through well-painted hearts
But not this time
I will remain myself
Without influence
And without desire

Take my hand one last time
Like a slaughtered lamb laid to rest
And follow me to the burial plot
On how we were once filled with promise

Let me gaze upon that face one more time
To resurrect regret and throw it all away
To taste the lips that once invited curiosity
But will now be given the chance to kiss the hand of God

Take one last breath
Make it deep and make it full
And I will make it your last
Take one last breath
Make it deep and make it full
And I will make it your last

I won't be swayed again
By your warm breath upon my neck
Rather than listen to your voice
I'll scream out the last rights of this love

A book of pictures will fuel this fire
Old letters of lies will become a pyre
I'll be standing where we first met
When I cast your ashes into the wind

My heart has become your shallow grave
No one to mourn you on this sad day
My heart has become your shallow grave
No one to mourn you on this sad day
My heart has become your shallow grave
No one to mourn you on this sad day