This space Not mine A fragile body holding purest form of death I'll crawl in cold, wakeful terror and clutch to my miracle To the nothing I have left I'm fallow In the circles I traverse I have not felt A sense of sin in my silence A self in my sadness This hand that i have dealt Gaze toward a setting sun Take time Our dying ones Our psalm is one of sorrow Our psalm is one of pain And bitterness of knowing We'll never laugh again The pit to hold our bodies Was dug by those ordained Our god is one of sorrow Our god is one of pain Those gone before (Those gone before) Spoken, no more (Spoken, no more) Those gone before This face, not mine A fragile body holding purest form of death I 'll crawl in cold, wakeful terror and clutch to my miracle To the nothing i have left I'm shallow In the circles I traverse I have not felt A sense of sin in my silence A self in my sadness As I beg to Gaze toward a setting sun Take time Our dying ones Our psalm is one of sorrow Our psalm is one of pain And bitterness of knowing we'll never laugh again The pit to hold our bodies Was dug by those ordained Our god is one of sorrow Our god is one of pain