(En Route To Your Grave)
I watch from the rain streaked windows of the hearse...the skies have opened and are mourning you...The traffic creeps, then stops in some respectful moment that you surely don't deserve, but we will keep that our secret. I feel like your dead bodies is attatched to my chest, heavy, breathing is a chore, thinking is a chore, weeping is no more.
I have cried the last tears I will cry for you. I debate bailing from the hearse but decide that it would be misconstrued as something it is not. Your Mother is next to me, holding my hand, a hand as cold as you are now.
(At Your Graveside Reception)
*It is such a shame, he was so young.* I hear these words from behind me, as I sit graveside, the rain a soft drizzle now.
I wanted to turn around and scream the truth for all to hear, but I will keep it our secret.
I drop a black rose on your casket, before they pile mounds of dirt on you. You deserve dirt and much worse and the old song runs through my mind...
*Did you ever think, as a hearse goes by,
That you might be the next to die?
They wrap you up in a big white sheet,
And bury you down about six feet deep
They put you in a big black box,
And cover you up with dirt and rocks,
And all goes well, for about a week,
And then the coffin begins to leak!
The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out,
The worms play pinochle on your snout.
They eat your eyes, they eat your nose,
They eat the jelly between your toes.
A great big worm with rolling eyes,
Crawls in your stomach and out your eyes,
Your stomach turns a slimy green,
And pus pours out like whipping cream.
You spread it on a slice of bread,
And that's what worms eat when you're dead.*
Remember we used to sing that in jest, and now it is your song.
(Leaving Your Grave)
We are leaving you now, you can be alone...just you and the worms.
~Kory~
6/03/07
