Memphis Will Be Laid To Waste
Norma Jean
Waltz around the room, with a glaze in your stare
In your tuxedo suit. I'll give it a name
Lower defenses. I'll lower the casket
Open the door. Open the grave
Murder
Now you're doing the waltz with your murderer
Waltz around the room, with a glaze in your stare
In your tuxedo suit. I'll give it a name
Lower defenses. I'll lower the casket
Open the door. Open the grave
Mediocrity is the killer
Mediocrity, is the killer
Mediocrity is the killer
Mediocrity, is the killer
You find yourself helpless
Christ is not a fashion, fleeting away
Fashion
He laid emeralds in her eyes, oh but I'd already tried
A bracelet made of gold and scarlet thread around her wrist
And everything was wrong so we sang sentimental songs
Oh how seldom we belong, but how elegant our kiss
And we painted crooked lies, but we danced in perfect time
To a love so much refined, we know not what it is
Until like a dullen wine we pour into a grief we know before
But it's never quite like this. Never quite like this
All I know now is regret it follows like a silhouette
Along the cobblestone behind me, but has nothing to say
Except to innocently ask, a voice as delicate as glass
Do you see me when we pass? But I continue on my way
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