Your will was first to go
Then you sent for your happiness, it never showed
Beneath your flesh and bone,
Your blood and marrow grew too thick to hold
What now, would you leave us behind
Waiting to raise and object?
Then how, if you’ve left us behind, shall we know where to direct?
These, this is what you missed, truncated and dismissed, from finer subjects found
The seasons are out of touch, sail upon this Flying Dutchman, this vessel just to honor thou
Carry you to sanctity, imperial and lined with smiling faces, and they won’t haunt you now
Hands to hold and shoulders to lay your head to rest, or tears to grave
And no reason to ever be afraid
Tell them who you were, dear
Tell them who we are
Teach them to be there for a reason,
And we’ll tell everybody left down here