The old man lies prone All alone In bed Waiting to breathe his last breath He's made his peace Or so It seems His body began to protest One part chose not to depart this world YET d**h in his sights Living for spite Poor magic bone Will go on and on His finger will not let him die Day after day Tapping away Skin like a burlap sack Hoping to fade to black Driven by an unworldly lust Magic bone feeds on his dust Replaying his life In his mind He tries to see how he made his knuckle crack No reason, no rhyme No deed No crime to warrant the finger's attack One part chose not to depart this world YET d**h in his eyes Living for spite That magic bone won't let him go His finger will not let him die Lying in wait Robbed of his fate Stuck for eternity Pointing round aimlessly Wanting to be six feet deep The magic bone won't let him sleep Let him sleep x4 Frozen awake In time and space No-one can hear his appeal For when he attempts To speak His mind The finger presses up to his lips Year after year Can't disappear Impossibly bored Nail like a sword No chance of suicide Not while it lives inside Trying to fight the magic joint Knowing that there is no point Is no point is no point, is no point, is...