Folklore - Emily Davis

We’ll all become saints someday

When our bodies give out and our lives

Aren’t based on what others say

She was so kind and lived so care free

Now shes long gone and there’s

Little input in this verbal biography

So goes the tale of a dying moon

Pale and blue and eclipsed all too soon

In a celestial sea that is capsizing

There is certainty you will become

Folklore (repeated)

I drink all these spirits in

Get drunk (?) in despair that I never

Knew any of them

The bar gets cold when my friends leave

Try to order one more then collapse on the floor

As i join them without reprieve

And everybody dies with a thirsty mouth

An unsightly pout before time runs out

But if you die bold with a belly that’s full

Well there’s a certainty that you’ll someday become

Folklore

A vessel that’s filled right up to the gills

A sweet serenade leaving a trail of chills

A time bomb that ticks to nobody’s fears

A collection of triumphs that surpass the years

A big stroke of life filling up one brief night

A love that can fight until the day it dies

A series of truths not just stories or lies

That you leave behind until you become

Nothing more than

Folklore