The ballad of a dead man

There’s a storm coming down
Right above my head
There’s no place to be a home
But all I need is a bed
I quit all good manners and start to feel alive, instead

I regret some things I’ve done
But I stopped to be haunted
I’m a mess wearing pants
But you don’t have to look after
‘Cause there’s nothing, no more
My day won’t be spoiled

And I thought that limbo comes after the grave
Now, I see the freedom I got you can’t take

I was locked from inside, pretending to have a life
But, somehow, I think it’s done
Lies under my tomb the troubles I’ve made my own
Resting around my bones

All the bohemian suburbs
They are not in grief
Beside their wall I found some relief
Everything is fine
In this drunken eternity

And I thought that limbo comes after the grave
Now, I see the freedom I got you can’t take

I was locked from inside, pretending to have a life
But, somehow, I think it’s done
Lies under my tomb the troubles I’ve made my own
Resting around my bones