foolsong

that fool who digs his own grave, i'm still trying to find my way out!, but if it's the long way, i'll sleep in this bed i've made, the kids have fallen on blades, it's too late to figure out, it's too late for babies to beg for their beds, it's too late to ignore the storm up ahead, it's too dark to see my way out, now all i can do about anything wrong, is dig further down, further down, when we finally awake, we'll burn our bodies on stakes, a tower of ashes and sawdust will lie, where our castles were made