next week I’ll open up another one
maybe by then your warm place
in the bed will be lost with the morning sun
maybe by then I’ll not know anyone

sit alone drink towards another comedy
while the smokers downstairs choke the balconies
you have a picture in your heart of what you mean to them
they've got pictures too but ones that never end

may your last day be your best day
but all your heart be required
may your last day be your best day
may not your body be so tired

a warm white silver cure serves to cleanse the streets
free of memories of broke geography
and it's a vision that you're sure will come to finish you
your own fingers weaved through your belt loops

o friend
a fumbled pirouette
to let us see this mark of death
you slung over
your head shoulders
pressed between
plastic sleeves and flowers

may your last day be your best day
but all your heart be required
may your last day be your best day
may not your body be so tired
may your last day be your best day
may your room be left alone
may your last day be your best day
may your sleeves point home