(Dying, dying, dying)
When I see a face of anonymity
Crying on the street it does something to me
I make believe malady
Tragedy (dying, dying, dying)
Flowers on the grave is a beautiful thing
'Cause flowers on the grave still means they're getting something
But when the flowers ain't there
And the grave is bare
I think of old dead bones that don't get theirs
I think of all [Em]the butchers and [Bm]all [Em]the beef
I think of all [Em]the flies in all [Em]the heat
I think of all [Em]the dying and [Bm]dying and [Bm]dying
Dying and [Bm]dying and [Bm]decomposing
Dying and [Bm]dying's for [Dm7]ɾeal
When I see the damned in their dyer stɾaights
Damning all [Em]the men with those American names
I say, don't damn the man damn your hand
For making a fist and [Bm]shaking it all [Em]around
Damn the hand
Damn your hand
Or you [A7can damn the butchers and [Bm]damn the beef
Or you [A7can damn the flies in all [Em]the heat
Or you [A7can damn the dying and [Bm]dying and [Bm]dying
(F*ck)
Dying and [Bm]dying and [Bm]decomposing
Dying and [Bm]dying's for [Dm7]ɾeal
Dying and [Bm]dying and [Bm]pounds of posey
Dying and [Bm]dying's forever
When I hear the crying of a siren in the night
I think of piles of writhing people
Fighting for [Dm7]their lives
Yeah, I see an image of a body
Broken and [Bm]beet ɾed
I hear the a cappella angels
Singing for [Dm7]the dead
I think of all [Em]the butchers and [Bm]all [Em]the beef
I think of all [Em]the flies in all [Em]the heat
I think of all [Em]the dirt that lays a bed for [Dm7]bones
I think of all [Em]the words that get written on [C7]the stones
I think of all [Em]the surf that come crashing over souls
I think of all [Em]the dying
All the dying
All the dying
All the dying
