Living Each Day Like You're Already Dead

Raise up the ghosts of the dead I won't die like them Push past the point of raw emotion I will breathe Exist with a broken spirit I will die complete Ignore what the angels say Enjoy that special place where the demons speak to me I won't pick out the lining of my coffin yet unless I am sure that color satin is me Better yet go with crushed velvet, that way I'll be damn sure to enjoy eternity My daily life writes the eulogy, engraved on tombstone diaries Laid to rest with the passing of time Seems to me that even love can die And the rituals, that fade away, and the roses that cease to be laid And to me it clearly appears that we're already one foot in a very shallow grave I will love with passion You live like you're dead I will love with passion You live like you're dead I will love with passion As each day dies, are we living on to the next or passing on in the twilight