Don’t kill

Don’t you stand there so painfully present
It’s all about your blinking glittered grief
Snowing me with salvation, stories and sand
To stupefy a lost belief
In the full-blown trip through what I meant

It’s not me being buried
It’s not me being gone
Don’t kill me, don’t pigeonhole me

Now I am shaped as I once appeared
The afflicted subject being buzzed about
Shedding your melted lightning unreal tears
Merely an upper faded out
Craving for charity’s warmth and feeling cheered

It’s not me being buried
It’s not me being gone
Don’t kill me, don’t pigeonhole me

Is it the politician blued stiff and cold
The father who wasn’t around anyway
– Or the lyricist stranded in a silent phrase
– Or the big spender loving the game to play
– Or the lover liking anyone who sold
The one hour eternal escape
From this amazed anonymous world
This isn’t my sound here in the ground

It’s not me being buried
It’s not me being gone
Don’t kill me, don’t pigeonhole me

Insult me with your story-telling skills
Your lies covering my fire while you’re so stunned
By the sound of these words wandering so chilled
Your In Memoriam has just begun
To redeem the emotional bills

It’s not me being buried
It’s not me being gone
It’s not me being buried
It’s not me being gone
Don’t kill me – you won’t reveal me – you won’t see me all gone