• An undead skeleton lays on the ground of dust,
    When it was in its time of need it laid to rust,
    A broken heart in a place we never tried to tame,
    This dry place wasn't a grave it was just shame,

    Our hats tip down filling our eyes with shadows,
    We passively stare at the crying figure in the center,
    As we tossed our wallets right into the burning flame,
    We were reminded this place wasn't a grave but shame,

    These screaming bones have no place to call a home,
    No food in their stomachs and no money to own,
    The normal man walks and lives life all the same,
    but this place full of skeletons not the same wasn't a grave but shame,

    I have two legs but these skeletons can barely walk,
    I have a pair of lips that don't scream pain when I talk,
    and I am looking down on the reflection so lame,
    When I realized what used to be simple shame is now a grave.