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