Seen the Dead

Old people used to demand respect

A wrinkle meant you'd seen the dead,

And chosen to come back to impart wisdom

But now where are all the old people?

Where are they?

Bagged away,

Bagged away

My old people are wise.

Let us listen again.

Not to what they think we should be,

Because that's bonkers,

But the words that come out of their chords between sleepy rinds

Listen to those words

Listen to them

Because they are young again,

And they are afraid again

And I cannot wait

Until I pack my suitcases and bid goodbye to my friends

How beautiful I'll be silver,

Dancing under the moonlight

With skin that's tearing,

A warrior out of battlefield