... And In September, Father

Too old for this shit
The years all passed
Future happened somewhere
Dead to the bone

Locked up in this tomb
Slept through the burial
All tomorrows lost
Give me a gun and help me load it

Cast in this mould
Like a plaything
Emotions draining
Nothing really counts

Names meaning nothing
Faces blur and fade
Give me a gun and help me load it
Give me a gun and help me load it