Dead Poets

Read the chapters in your book
Tear the pages out that tell you how to live
Let's go down to the courtyard
March to the beat of the drum in your own heart
Let's go down to the courtyard
Tear the pages out

There's his father looking on
Does he know that this is all his fault?
Now his boy is gone and he missed out
On all the things that boy could have found

Oh oh oh ooo

In the silence, they made sound
Listened quietly as the words rang out
Words penned by dead poets
All of them gone, and all of them know that
Words dead poets make the loudest sound

There's his father looking on
Does he know that this is all his fault?
Now his boy is gone and he missed out
On all the things that boy could have found

Oh oh oh ooo

In the spotlight, he felt home
Darkness fell on him when the curtain closed
He went home to a dark house
Felt the weight of the words from his father's mouth
He went home to a dark house
Never to come out

There's his father looking on
Does he know that this is all his fault?
All his fault
All his fault



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