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All of them sweet little lambs
end up as deaf stray dogs
Chasing their tails tirelessly
barking up the wrong tree
Living in fear to leave in fear
pissing their dens, whining holy hymns

Hello death
I'm back
No place like home
Grave sweet grave

Inquisitive philosophers
Influencers and followers
Fat bishops and their golden rings
Skinny thieves with all gold teeth
Bridges, churches and dollhouses
Emptiness swallows everything

Hello death
I'm back
No place like home
Grave sweet grave

Moth fluttering around the candle
loves light but fears the heat
and yet the flame is inevitable
You can run but you can't hide
You can pray but why waste time
You're born, you blink and then you die

I have wrestled with death. It is the most unexciting contest you can imagine. It takes place in an impalpable greyness, with nothing underfoot, with nothing around, without spectators, without clamour, without glory, without the great desire of victory, without the great fear of defeat*.

*Joseph Conrad – Heart of Darkness