The dead are all around us
Invisible, yet tangible
They stand in our rooms
In the empty hours before dawn
They stand in our showers and halls
You can feel their soft caresses on your eyebrows and cheeks
In the quiet of the night
They stand in the dark woods
On the sides of mountains
In the forgotten buildings, side by side
They crowd, some smiling, some softly weeping
Wistful, wanting, watching
They stand on subways and platforms
Surrounded by graffiti that reads in colorful letters
"The Dead Are All Aound Us
The dead are all around us
Invisible, yet tangible
They watch us every night
In the darkened hours before dawn
They find their way into our dreams
You can feel their gentle whispers
On your body and skin
In the quiet of your room
They stand on the highways
In abandoned playgrounds
In the desolate cities
Side by side they watch
Some yelling, some softly praying
Wistful, wanting, waiting
They stand at stations and bus stops
Surrounded by old billboards that read in colorful letters
"The Dead Are All Aound Us
All around us