If It Bleeds After Scratching It

If It Bleeds After Scratching It If it bleeds after scratching it, then you went too far. I see a parade of dead people walking by me in this old dream. They are eating bananas and I recognize their faces as friends, I hear their familiar voices, and I wish I can talk to them again. Then, as if a switch is flipped they can speak through the veil. They tell me of fantastic sights to behold after dying from earth. If it cries in pain after stabbing it, then you went too far. I see dead girls from my past walking by me in another dream. They are naked on the floor in the back room darkness. I hear the familiar music of Copland and Gershwin on a record player. I see young bodies squirming in a vague grunting candlelight. They move by me like floating temple dancers in the moonlight. If it says nothing after screaming at it, then you went too far. I see dead friends huddled on a sofa inside my old childhood house. They are sitting like wooden statues listening to my mother play the organ. My mother is pressing the pedals barefooted as she fingers the Anniversary Waltz, And my dead friends clap as she looks at everyone for approval as she plays; The ghost in the basement loves to waltz, and I can hear him dancing down there.