The Edge of the Earth

There's just something magical about the rain in a cemetery
Something that makes me feel like the world isn't imaginary
The smell of the pine forest, the trees that give me shade-
Let me find some peace, where the living won't invade

I'm on a mossy rock, looking out at the graves-
At 7 o'clock, the sun still hopes to be saved
But the sky is dim and very eager for the moon
The sky is just like me, it's been a long afternoon

These woods, they fall right off of the edge of the Earth
These tombstones have been waiting since the deceased were given birth
These black birds are flying back up into the trees to sleep
These chilly raindrops pierce my shoulders, right to the bones so deep

I feel like the phantom that gave me my second name
My fingers giving birth to creations that can't be tamed
Born from all the thoughts that shape me, and make me who I am
For better or for worse, I'm a pretty morbid man

The obelisks and statues are like lookouts for the forsaken
I've been here for a while, maybe I could be mistaken-
For a phantom at the window, always looking out at death
Basking in my reveries til' the wind runs out of breath

The grass smells so sweet with the flowers and the rain
You can call the graveyard bleak, but it sure does ease my pain
I wonder who might be watching, maybe I could be a legend
The poet in the graveyard, in his little Gothic heaven

But now I must be going, I've worn out my stay
I've been here longer than the joggers that run through to start their day
I admit, it felt good to let the phantom control me
Adios, old tombstones, til' the next time I'm feeling lonely