Dead

The poet is dead

It's me and my friends

At a funeral

And we're not crying

Clowns dressed as hippies are dancing around

Playing little trumpets and a bass drums around

The priest doesn't know

What to say

You can tell someone's on cocaine

I've been in this place

When I was young

Riding my bike

When I was young

Hearing a voice crackling in my head

Hearing a voice say "you're not dead"

The poet is dead

It's me and my friends

At a funeral

We're not crying

I've been in this place

When I was young

Riding my bike

When I was young

Hearing a voice crackling in my head

Hearing a voice say "you're not dead"