The Corpse - Sandrider

Breaking bread with the dragon

Stealing secrets from beggars

Sell the blueprints cheap

Resurrecting the bomb, but we don’t forget its wake

We can smell the dead from here

Burning, bruised and mocked, fan the flames

This corpse will breathe again so help me

Terrify the peasants

Gather round and watch the corpse bleed to death and swoon

Loved by none we fade with age

Eyes wide the crowd looks on.

The monster lives, a broken form

Buried under diamond soil.

No epitaph.

A barren stone

Precious few we mourn alone, beloved corpse beneath the ground