The Chorus of a Dead Man

You wake up in the morning,
White sheets linen on your bed,
Your gentle wife stirs gently,
Don't worry, keep resting, sleepyhead

Should probably eat something,
Downs cold water,
Skips food again,
Off to the train station,
Into the crowd,
Just another man who blends

And he'll sing:

'This is the story of a man who is dead,
My crazy little life is never gonna end.

This scares me so,
I hate feeling so cold,
Too far from all I know

But this is the story of a man who is dead 
And here's how it softly goes.'

Arriving in the office,
Craving some caffeine sweet,
The placid workers strolling by,
All ways they work so neat.

Your heavy mind wonders coldly,
Through thoughts of roads unknown,
You're empty in this feared regime,
And you've gone too far to turn.

And he'll sing:

'This is the story of a man who is dead,
My crazy little life is never gonna end.

This scares me so,
I hate feeling so cold,
And far from all I know

But this is the story of a man who is dead,
And here's how it softly goes.'

Wonder back through the city,
Lights shine strong bright and blue,
You see a young man, pretty girl on arm,
Something achieved by few.

You spot in him something,
You lost years ago too true, 
Something better, something craved, 
The once alive, original, old you.

And he'll sing:

'This is the story of a man who is dead, 
My crazy little life is never gonna end.

This scares me so,
I hate feeling so cold,
And far from all I know 

But this is the story of a man who is dead, 
And here's how it softly goes.'

The End

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