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(Words by Ethan Walden)

Sitting in the graveyard

No one left to meet

A carpet of decay

Lying at my feet

Chilling winds don't bother me

As I kneel here eyes a gazing

Nothing left but to accept

The fact, the way of life

Wind rustles through the trees

A complement to silence

The moonlight seeps down into

The clearing of the fallen

Chilling winds don't bother me

As I kneel here eyes a gazing

Nothing left but to accept

The fact, the way of life