Oh I was on my way to doing something else,
you prop my eyelids up with toothpick thoughts.

Thursday,
 shuffling feet on your cemetery lawn.
Weeping about your skin, in your sleep you just slid it off.
Just so you could get dressed up in this,
Your nightgown of oak, your ribbons of roots.
Is there nothing you want from me now?
no help I could give but to lower you down.
Oh, all your friends standing by, waving greedy goodbyes,
I've got nothing now I want to say,
You wouldn't talk back anyway.
And you know we won't do what you wanted us to,
There ain't nothing here to celebrate,
We're all worse of without you.

At that feast in some two star hotel
I'm circling the room and mingling half stunned,
Nauseous with the truth of it all.
Knowing here the whole time this won't really fade,
Now it just stays in our spines.
Oh, but we're all shaking hands, offering condolences ,
Stories of some envied youth, less life threatening more moot.
And our eyes they all drown, our tongues get wrung out.
There ain't nothing here for us to taste that ain't bitter already.
They warn us our reservation is up.
It just seems so cruel.
Like the parasites that eat your thoughts your plot gets covered up
By someone who never even knew you.

Oh, then the curtain comes down, the crowd it thins out .
Ain't no reason now for us to stay.
And we all hurry home, because it won't be long,
no, it won't be long till we're in your place.