No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was none.
Icy white breath of yours in this clean air.
Shaking your bones in this pale midnight sun.

Minds becoming undone.
Harsh lights in your eyes, becoming entrapped in a snare.
No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was none.

Jump out of this dream with your gun,
Pull the trigger and weep with despair.
Shaking your bones in this pale midnight sun.

Cry out for help, see that no one
Is here. Look around once more realizing you have been there.
No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was none.

Screeches making you run
And your ears bleed. This dream seems all too rare.
Shaking your bones in this pale midnight sun.

They call you to reality, your loved ones,
As you drift into sleep, murmuring the Lord’s Prayer.
No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was none.
Shaking your bones in this pale midnight sun.