The Grave Teaches What the Living Can’t

I walked through the stones where the names wore thin, Heard the silence speak of what might’ve been. No preacher’s word, no righteous chant, Tells the truth the grave can, but the living can’t.

The grave teaches what the living can’t, No prayer, no gold, no holy rant. Only bones remember, only dirt will know, What the living won’t learn ’til they’re laid below.

The dead don’t lie, they’ve got no need, Their sermon’s carved in stone and weeds. I felt their hands in the midnight breeze, Whisperin’ truths that brought me to my knees.

The grave teaches what the living can’t, No prayer, no gold, no holy rant. Only bones remember, only dirt will know, What the living won’t learn ’til they’re laid below.

The living forget, but the grave don’t bend… It’s where every story finds its end.

The grave teaches what the living can’t, No prayer, no gold, no holy rant. Only bones remember, only dirt will know, What the living won’t learn ’til they’re laid below.

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