The Warmth of a Tomb

Hang on, 'til your dying day

Swinging in the breeze, whistle while you freeze

And pray for something you believe

Sing it out to sea, sing it out to me

While in the warmth of a tomb

I was thinking to presume

You had the gall

Something kept me waiting

For your call to get through

I was sinking in my room

Hang on, waiting for the way

Take it while you can satisfy demands

And pray for liar's blood to be

Carried out to sea, buried out to sea

While in the warmth of a tomb

I was thinking to presume

You had the gall

Something left me waiting

For the fall to assume

There was nothing left in bloom