To Every Thing There Is a Season

And now, for something completely different:

Seems like every star’s the brightest star the world has ever seen,
Till they drink too much or just lose touch and piss away the dream.
And every year is gonna be the best year I have ever had,
And then it’s December and I can’t remember how a good thing went so bad.

And there’s always someone in the bathroom stall
Spraying their dreams on the bathroom wall,
Remembering when they stood so tall,
Oh, the unmitigated gall,
Of a being who thinks that they’re so clever
Like a migraine or a toothache never
Caused a sister with scissors to sever
The thread that could have run forever.

It’s appointed to a man once to die,
And appointed to his lover once to cry,
And appointed to his mother to voice regrets,
And appointed to his enemies to finally forget,
And appointed to the preacher to say he led a good life,
And appointed to the brother to take care of his wife,
There’s a time to dance and a time to die,
And it’s appointed to ones left behind to sigh.
I am just a jester so I won’t ask why,
But I’ll die when I decide to die,
And my funeral pyre will burn so brightly,
The crowds will congregate there nightly,
To exchange cliches about how they miss me,
And the girls can say how they wish they’d kissed me,
Until they don’t remember the original kindling,
My favorite books and the songs I’d sing,
Mourning always turns to laughter eventually,
Love, oh love, remember me.