N the graveyards

In the graveyards are families and friends
Staying for a while but eager to move on
Resting in vertical tombs that light up at Christmas
They flicker in while people come and go through guilt mainly

And we're tribal in our vandalism
Our epitaphs in graffiti art

It scratches the cheeks and from the top it falls down
Our bald heads first we exit the womb
In the graveyards are families and friends
Every curtain's drawn, every curtain drawn

And we're tribal in our vandalism
Our epitaphs in graffiti art

Where we once looked out now concrete stares