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Sadly one Sunday, I waited and waited with flowers in my arms, for the grief I'd created. I waited 'til dreams like my heart were all broken. The flowers were all dead and the words were unspoken. The grief that I knew was beyond all consoling, the beat of my heart was a bell that was tolling. Saddest of Sundays. Then came the Sunday when you came to find me, they brought me to church and I left you behind me. My eyes would not see what I wanted to love me, the earth and the flowers are forever above me. The bell tolled for me and the wind whispered 'never', but you I have loved and I'll love you forever. Last of all Sundays. Funeral Doom.