Death, I don’t get it–Death seems like a fake
When (right next to you) my eyes snap awake
Like blinds rolled up in the alert light of dawn.
Everyone’s always mooning over some grave,
Some president or lover or bloke awfully brave
–At best I manage to stifle my yawns.
Microbes and cancers and blanks on the map
Steal time from their eyes they’ll never get back.
Why don’t they get wise and do what I do?
Building big monuments is hard on the back,
And who cares what’s there in the blanks on the maps?
So why don’t the world shut up and just love you?
They’d see crystal-clear how Death was a fake
When (right next to you) their eyes snapped awake.