Potters Hill (Burial3)

Frantic are the thoughts
That seems to make no sense
Confusion is the nightmare
Of this present tense
Arrows without a target
With nowhere else to go
Destination is a secret
That the pilot doesn't know
On and on goes the merry-go-round
That doesn't seem to slow
Round and round the mulberry bush
Till I find the road
Please understand
Though you can't and neither can I
The road we travel has many forks
Impaled there we die
Here we stand in one place
Of things of could or might
Running fast yet never moving
Until we get it right
Who am I
I judge you not
For a judge not am I
For any answer I'd give
To you would be a lie

You hang me from the highest tree
And say my words are ill
And banish me to this unkempt grave
Upon Potters Hill

All I know is what I am
So I can not be that much
Haunting from within my head
Memories now out of touch
Houdini waves his magic wand
But the illusion fades away
Fairytales and enchanted dreams
Do not exist today
I ask for truth but expect a lie
For that is all you know
Clap your hands or a fairy dies
I how the bitch dies slow
Anger seems the one escape
From the cobwebs of it all
But I fear it's a bit too late
I've already started to fall

No lies are white
They dress in black
To mourn the truth they kill
So bury me deep within the earth
Up on Potters Hill

I can still see your faces
In every single fallen
Since you past away
Falling Falling Fallen
My angel lies
Crucified upon the earth
Since my angel died

All alone
So alone