You're long-winded elegy didn't do much for the gathering, and the silence sang your doubt.
The faithful hung their heads and filed out.
But that's the thing about death, I guess. It's hard to cast a shallow light on it. The living can't bury what the buried leave behind.
Please don't follow me home. It's been such a long time since I've been alone.
This wind drags heavy and slow, and I'm not ungrateful, I just want you to go.
So let's just put an end to it, the lockjaws and the Jesuits,
see where the horseshoe lands and call it a day.
That's the thing about death, I guess. See, everybody's scared to death of it,
and I can see it in your face no matter what you say.
