I've buried friends and acquaintances
Family and so many dreams
Hope has died an agonising death
The same as so many things

It's not sad that I don't remember the faces
But that I only see them as pictures
Tiny moments in this endless stream
With memory as my teachers

We were never made to be alone
It was never Gods intention
That I should find myself cast away
I'm afraid is my own invention

My sins are many and grievous
Too insidious perhaps to forgive
Though on bended knee I pray
For this is no way for man to live