I was sad about one of my old bands, Lame Agnus, breaking up and also thinking about my grandmother who has been institutionalized for her whole life. I blended the two ideas into one concept.
Lyrics
Agnus sits on her shelf
waiting for her release
no more stories to tell
no more lessons to teach
should she write off her life
or just curl up and die
in her mind she gets stuck
as the world passes her by
growing up I should dream
of what life could be
from a cynical eye
you can't see the sun rising
I tried to deny it
and just end up crying
an old sack of bones
dressed in memory
Agnus won't take her pills
and she won't fall asleep
too much noise in her head
never enough when she needs
should she revive her mind
or is sanity wise
catatonicaly fit
for a long vacation
growing up I could dream
of what life should be
from a cynical eye
you always see what might have been
i've tried to deny it
and just end up crying
an old sack of bones
dressed in memory
growing up I could dream
of what life should be
from a cynical eye
you can't see the real me
i've tried to deny it
and just end up crying
an old sack of bones
dressed in memory
and what would they say
if they could see you now
it helps in a way
but there is still a bit of hurt
the fountain of youth
that you never seem to find
is found inside you
it was always your choice to be lame
growing up I could dream
of what life should be
from a cynical eye
you can't see the real me
i've tried to deny it
and just end up crying
an old sack of bones
dressed in memory