In The Dead Of Quiet

We're never gonna get where we're never gonna go
Sinking in conclusions we drew
Walking through quicksand dragging a corpse
Is what it feels like talking to you

Five minutes feels like a twelve-hour shift
Where nobody gets any overtime
Nothing ever seems to get accomplished
An exhausting, meaningless climb
 
Me and rigor mortis found ourselves at odds
Till we finally stopped talking in the dead of night
Dead silence sounds like the voice of God
In the dead of quiet
I am light

The quicksand we keep is not that deep
It's a figure of breach in the mind
Shallow enough to walk on out
Deep enough to leave a body behind

They're combing the woods, dragging the lakes
Searching basements, and digging up lawns
The stiff went missing, but it's peaceful here
Since that noisy corpse has gone

Me and rigor mortis found ourselves at odds
Till we finally stopped talking in the dead of night
Dead silence sounds like the voice of God
In the dead of quiet
I am light

I could have dragged it from the quicksand
But then it would have just killed me
The coroner says the situation
Died of natural causes, you see
It wasn't justifiable homicide
Nor a matter of self defense
It was already dead when I dropped it there
Dragging it further wouldn't make any sense

Seems there's always more to talk about
Something somebody needs to say
Somebody looking for their pound of flesh
Even when flesh is in decay
Now is the time for burials
For the mourning of doves and grief
But the body is out of its misery
Grateful the quiet brings relief

Me and rigor mortis found ourselves at odds
Till we finally stopped talking in the dead of night
Dead silence sounds like the voice of God
In the dead of quiet
I am light

 © John Kennan 4-18-20