there's a boy in crimson rags with a grimace and a spoon, and a little sullen       girl face?up staring at the moon    and there's no one around to hear their lonesome cries    then they pass away alone into the night       why do we pity the dead?    are you churned by emotion from voices in your head?    (are you scared of the logic that swirls within your head)    look at all the living and you'll ask yourself why    oh why do we    pity the dead?    pity the dead!       well, you've seen the disease, suffering and decay,    and you whisper to yourself blissfully "it's okay"    and you still refuse the possibility    that the dead are better off than we       tell me what you see, tell me what you know    is there anyone who lives a painless life?    if there is show me so    the destitute and famished, demonic and the    banished, dejected and the ostracized, the    brainwashed and the paralyzed, the conquered    and objectified, the few who see the other side    tell me what you see! It's a mortal wretched cacophony       in the end you may find there's no guiding subtle light,    no ancestors or friends, no judge of wrong or right    just eternal silence and dormancy    and a final everlasting peace