Dead Man Talking

Nobody listened to me back then really, ears closed shut tight
At least now I know it’s me not making a sound that brings ignorance
And I’m sorry about blaming you and My Mother’s regular slights
Upon your character, stained and worn, but to my death of no relevance
I can hear you thinking of me, that is how it works here, thought sight
It was my choice to dance with icy clawed dragons in squats damp
Yes I know I told you where you’d end up, well I’m here first alright?
So I was wrong, but that don’t make you right as you write by your lamp
Stop feeling so worried, I mean twenty five years is a heavy walk with that weight
Strapped to your shoulders, by yourself in the main, maybe a little Dad there too
But I’m talking now, through the mist of years and doing my best to set things straight
To change the memories of guilt laden doubt, I’m whispering right at you
Remember the pub where we’d smear our faces with plant pot dirt to get in?
That guy on the bus, you slapped his head, he screamed “I’ve shot better men than you!”
How about the smile that scorched across your face when Slack Molly said you looked thin
Or that time we got hammered on mushrooms and cider and thought we’d discovered the truth
Every cut, every scratch, every cigarette burn a waste of time I don’t have
To be fair it seems selfish, I mean you’ve got air, flowers and girls in skirts
Oh yeah and there ain’t no devil, so breathe easier and maybe even laugh
And there ain’t no god, so you were right there, man that hurts
I’m laughing, don’t worry, even specters tell jokes, you think I’d change much?
Never mate, not for a second, although I’ve somehow forgot what a second is
And minutes could be years for all I know and years, yeah yeah and such and such
So, don’t write anymore, I think you’re about healed and I’m still dead, it’s the laughter I miss mate.