Pere Lachaise Five into the Twentieth Death is not worth the doing Life is not worth the living So I am in-between two worlds Rotting above the ground Whilst the corpses laugh in their comfy warm beds They sleep in peace I walk upon their heads Trembling Seeking solace where there is none As the leaves fall the season will soon change I shall remain as I am Inebriated with ravens and fools In cafes with strangers Safely away from the human touch Wine flowing through my veins Wine caressing my very pains The clouds float overhead Raining on the dead and almost Feigning hopes when there is none Five and twenty blackbirds singing deaths song They offer me a map at the graveyard entrance How trite, a map to my very own hell My journey though might be a hard sell Tumble as I do upon so many stones Black roses hidden where once they were shown Bloody nights with both razor and thorn When I arrived at the morgue Surely I was scorned Adélaïde Paillard de Villeneuve You have no home, not even in death So it’s with you I wish to hold hands You the first and I who will never last