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.