On this dead poets' day We close our eyes as we pray For all the hearts beyond absolve Their marrow dry, their gold facade A loss for words right from the start For all the minds beyond our sway In the dead poets' dark They have torn out the heart of hearts And filled the cavity with a cage A swarm of lost, they set ablaze The flourished fruit they will abate A puerile plague that calls alarm Ink fills the page Words are erased And lost in doubt, we carry out Ink covers sheets Stone memories That fade away and lost their place On this dead poets' day Corrosion pens a yellow page And bleeds out rust to song A choir loud that belt and balk And simple truth transposed to waltz Is nothing more then yesterday I'll leave this life If you'll bury me; Please leave your heart In my grave for thieves; Fight or flight I'll be relieved; This place is No place to be