The Thrill of Death
The thrill of Death
Your days are over, thrill of death,
Never understanding, the gift of self
Your innocence is lost, and a gun to your head,
I’ve always loved you , even though your dead
You sit on rocks on a nice still day,
Examine your life for another way
Like simplicity of truth and the singing birds,
Swaying trees and buffalo herds
You apologize to me one more time
But the emptiness crosses the line
Amazing how little we have to say
When truth is told in this way
Your days are over, thrill of death
Never understanding, gift of self
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