With my own cold dead face

[Cantado por Michael Pitt, em Last Days, de Gus Van Sant]

From rape...
To right in...
To real...
To live...
Should I lie...down...
Or stand up
And walk...around...again?

My eyes finally wide open up
My eyes finally wide open shut
To find the found of sound
That hears the touch of my tears.
Smells the taste of all we waste
Could feed the others
But we smother each other
With the nectar and pucker the sour
Of sugar sweet weather
blows through our trees
Swims through our seas
Flies to the last gasp we left
on this earth...oh ohh...

It's a long lonely journey from death to birth
It's a long lonely journey from death to...
It's a long lonely journey from death to birth
Oh...it's a long lonely journey from death to...birth

Should I die again?
Should I die around the pounds of matter wailing to space?
I know I'll never know until
I come face to face
With my own cold, dead face
With my own wooden case...
You are with me, with me, ooh, ohh, hmm
I'm mourning you ooh, ooh, ohh, hmm

It's a long lonely journey from death to birth
It's a long lonely journey from death to birth
It's a long lonely journey from death to birth
It's a long lonely journey from death to... birth