No Tickets To The Funeral by Redemption
Pile the bodies higher
Climb to the top so the world can see
The depth of your sympathy
Worn as it is upon your sleeve
Where's the true compassion
In this vapid, sickly cult
Of worshipping celebrity?
Struck with my mortality
Dazed by the reality
Forced upon my eyes
Dying from the time we're born
But few are prepared
To be told it's time
Tell my friends I fought
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