I lose my breath for the ways we wept
Carving our chains from the sorrows we claim
I curse my hands as they build my plans
The coffin sized for me that I lovingly heed
Each step towards my death I shriek as I grin
I cannot stop mourning even as I descend
Why do we not cease all this clamor and doubt?
I know what will save me but I grieve anyhow
We built our own tomb-traps but we gild them and stay!
filling the rooms with silver decay
Floating our corpses in gold-blood and gloom
We’re certain this death will not be the last
We’ve died so many times in the past