A Song About Death
Now it will take me a bed to get to sleep
And a mind to get me to dream,
But the moon is bright and stuffed
As it slithers across the sky.
It pours its light onto my skull,
Staining the paint with reflected glory.
I try to take my eye away but
My eye still stares at me through the
Mirrors that you left behind in the dirt.
The mirrors are scratched and they distort
The truth that I could once so easily see.
"Well goodnight and good luck," said the
Smiling clowns that once offered you food but now
They are burying you up to your eye line in ash.
They wait for you to say something but your mouth
Is tight shut and filling with sulphur.
The sulphuric silence that's making you drown but
Is also stoking the fire that still burns in your brain.
I demand to be the fire that sleeps in your eyes.
So that I could raise you up out of this ash that's
Filling your lungs.
We're here to forget the one who withered in the sun
But who screamed at the moon as it took away his dreams.
And deprived him of solitude because the moonlight and
His failures could never leave him alone.
You're told by the starched white women
That you don't deserve to breathe because
More will never follow.
No more will ever follow.
No hope will ever follow you now.
Scream at the moon because it's the only thing
That's keeping you from your dreams.
Well in your mind you're screaming as you crash.
Your body is submerged in ash.