
They’re gonna find my skull in the hands of a collector Their finest example of fossilized anger Crystallized ruptures of my most righteous fury Keep your spirits up, they said, but my body’s still down here Smokin Tutankhamun, thinkin' ‘bout old friends Guess somewhere along the line my story ended for them Like I’ve drawn a curtain across myself and now it’s permanent Shrouded in that mystery, I cannot remove it O my God it’s, O my God it’s true Who’s that in the darkness shining back at you? All you ever needed was shattered as foretold It’s a broken mirror, not a chain of gold
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