Curing Europe's Humanistic Melancholia

...by ending the prohibitions against expressive ritualistic jouissance
You escape like a runaway train
Off the tracks and down again
And my heart's beating like a steamboat tugging
All your burden, on my shoulder

And in the mourning, I'll rise
In the mourning, I'll let you die
In the mourning, all my worry

And now there's nothing but time that's wasted
And words that have no backbone
Now it seems like the whole world's waiting
Can you hear the echoes fading?

And in the mourning, I'll rise
In the mourning, I'll let you die
In the mourning, all my sorry

And it takes all my strength
Not to dig you up, from the ground in which you lay
The biggest part of me
You were the greatest thing
And now you're just a memory to let go of

In the mourning, I'll rise
In the mourning, I'll let you die
In the mourning, all my sorry

Well, I've been afraid of changing cause I built my life around you
But time grows bolder, children get older I'm getting older too, so
Well, I climbed a mountain and I turn around
And I saw my reflection in snow covered hills
Where landslide brought me down, your landslide brought me down

So in the morning, I'll rise
In the morning, I'll let you die
In the morning, all my sorry