The silence holds like a grappling thug
my pounding chest in a murderous grip
The bell is muffled but the grave is dug
Deep shadows waiting for my fatal slip.

When I finally think of the words to say
and can say the words that I really mean
The door is closing, she's slipped away
and I'm losing all that could have been

And I don't call out, it would seem too sad
And I cannot follow, to resist the gloom
So I stay and stumble, I'm feeling bad
and my ramblings echo in the empty room.