It’s your funeral
I had a dream with John Candy,
asked him how it felt to die
He said “I don’t know what to tell you kid,
just buy a suit and tie”
Offspring centered in the catacombs
Virgin Mary drunk on rye,
she said “I don’t know what to tell you kid,
just buy a suit and tie”
Birds they nest in after hour tree,
God runs errands and negates prayer
nothing new on this side of the fence
dirty cars running on empty,
beautiful girls text lovers on empty
while I watch b/w noir films
devoid of sound
My malady forces me to watch the
world change through a phone screen
better me than you
Barney Gumble once told me,
through the glow of my family television
“don’t cry for me, bc I’m already dead”
Metaphysical reverberations of a loser,
life in a bed
So as pretentious as it sounds,
Heres to you and yours
may your glass stay always full
and pray it never hit the floor
While parades march crooked
down the street, and people root and cry
I don’t know what to tell you kid,
just buy a suit and tie
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