And so the clock strikes twelve as we find ourselves
In a sphere of a clearing in a navy light
There are no stars, just the bars of a cars headlights
On the leaves in the dead of the night
Silhouette suits step out of the shadows
Into the arena where the cameras roll
See their shoulders strain below the weight of the spades
Stereo plays for a funeral
They say the moon is nearly full
They see their eyes are nearly dry
They know how wonderful, how wonderful it is
To be alive tonight
I leave myself to the earth
To the air
To the ashes
Its my time
Its my design
Its my turn
And I know I won't be loved
Won't be saved
Won't be noticed
Until I learn to love
I hate to learn
To my best beloved I do bequeath
All the anguish and the irony
And all the things we never meant
And those we set out to prevent
I leave the twisted bittersends
Send soulem grace of concequence
The hand he let lent ungratefully
I don't intent to take away the mean
He had a solid alabi
You know I never saw him cry?
I leave myself to the earth
To the air
To the ashes
Its my time
Its my design
Its my turn
And I know I won't be loved
Won't be saved
Won't be noticed
Until I learn to love
I hate to learn
And the clock strikes one
And my time is done and I know he won't miss me when I'm gone. I just raise a toast to my sweet trevouse` and feel glad that the chapter's closed
This is my early grave
Where I wait for the light to let me in
Here it comes around again
And I say
Let the light shows and the sounds
Of the orchestra begin
My eternal requiem
For an early grave