Walking past the graveyard - We’re holding in our breaths. It’s a long way to the corner Trying not to wake the guests inside the Rows of Mausoleums, the gate with iron wings - They are there though we can’t see them As the breath inside is burning... Til the games we play as children come to harden into bone, Running from this city made of stone. I’m walking past the graveyard - May the breath inside me stay - As I stumble out the barroom, Or I’m face down in the hallway... Where the games we played as children keep us safe when we’re alone, Hiding from this city made of stone. I’m walking past the graveyard - Another year has passed, And this breath that I’ve been holding is rising up at last until it burns through all the sadness, As breath just wants to spill, But if I’m breathing then I’m talking Then I’m kneeling on a hill and saying... How I miss you How I miss you How I miss you still.