symphony of the dead

They say the world's a stage And all the men and women but players Until the world becomes a plague And all the men and women say prayers You pick the entrails off my rotting gums Producing a muddy note Like smashing a xylophone, to crumbs Teeth sliding down my throat A dark and deep melody rises in the air Mulching oxygen; a sick symphony. You cannot have my heart, It isnt spare Be gone with your tyranny Youre dying, comes from a babes tongue But listen close if you will. Closer, and youll hear a sickly sweet song Now lie down, and be still.