one day the dreamers died within us

when all our answers never came

we hid the truth beneath our skin but

our shadows never looked the same



a ghost is all that's left

of everything we swore we never would forget

we tried to bleed the sickness

but we drained our hearts instead

we are the dead



and when we couldn't stop the bleeding

we held our hearts over the flame

we couldn't help but call it treason

after that we couldn't fill our frames

after that our shadows never looked the same



in summers past we'd challenge fate

with higher pitch and perfect aim

and standing fast, we'd radiate

a light we loved but never named

but the answers never came

and our shadows never looked the same



a ghost is all that's left

of everything we swore we never would forget

we tried to bleed the sickness

but we drained our hearts instead

we are the dead

a ghost of everything we thought but never said

we tried to bleed the sickness

but we drained our hearts instead



we are the ones who lost our faith

we dug ourselves an early grave

we are the dead, can we be saved?