Dirge

Mother please comfort me - dam up my crying -
   I’ve grown far too tired to gabble and clown;
This world is unnatural, faithless and lying -
   I’m a-weary with trying and fain would lie down.

Sing me those songs I but faintly remember
   You long ago taught me ere DJs did drown
The notes in a fury that burns without ember -
   I’m a-weary with trying and fain would lie down.

Invite the few friends that still haven’t forgotten
   That friendship’s the one feeling worthy a crown
But bid them make haste - soon I’m putrid and rotten
   For I’m weary with trying and fain would lie down

Rent me a hearse with a team of fine horses -
   Not just a car upon which you should frown
As fuming and poisoning onwards it courses -
   I’m a-weary with trying and fain would lie down.

Find me a spot that’s as yet unpolluted
   Dig me a grave far from village or town;
Ensure that no sapling or tree is uprooted -
   I’m a-weary with trying and fain would lie down.

Put back the grass when you’ve buried me under;
   Don’t let a stone speak my paltry renown...
All that I did was but bitch it and blunder:
   I’m a-weary with trying and fain would lie down.