Who do you think would even show up at the funeral day?

Staring six feet down, that's my hallowed ground

Just a bed of dirt and bones, that's where I'll lay

Words carved like a poem into some cheap headstone

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And who's so lucky

but to have a few dear souls tried and true?

And could you even hear the brassy sounds

of the last bells crying out?

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I'm just a dark horse, with a pale heart

on a cold night, for a long walk

Just a dead flame, fuck this old game

lay me down now, I've got a new name

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Would anyone show up with a few last words to say?

And toast my final hour, at least piss on my grave?

Maybe there's a sad song that a lonely trumpet could play

The tune could flutter on into an evening sun

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And who's so lucky

but to have a few dear souls tried and true?

There won't be a chorus from a crowd

just the crickets chirping loud...

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I'm just a dark horse, with a pale heart

on a cold night, for a long walk

Just a dead flame, fuck this old game

lay me down now, I've got a new name

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