The dirt is fresh beneath the fingernails
And I cannot deny
I tried to bury them in shallow graves
But they refuse to die
I must have crafted some immortal strains
And grafted in the cells
Of something stronger than the common things
We hold within ourselves
Now it appears my current company
Is not about to leave
And all the feelings that are haunting me
Will not be put to sleep
So, in the doorway of my heart, I halt
Unmoving where I stand
I hear them clawing out to find me
With the shovel in my hand
And maybe I should be ashamed to think
I tried to put them down
But I am fighting for my life tonight
Against the hollow sound
Of all the beauty I believed in once
Before I found it dead
I hear the memories of lovely things
Like zombies in my head
The empty graveyard of my passion aches
With graves I cannot fill
They rise and follow me to bed at night
Despite my pleading will
So I suppose I will not bury them
At least, no more today
For I am far too tired-handed now
To lift this weighted spade