James Kent, son of a bitch, you were my best friend
And you set your head down on the train tracks
Said, "this is it" and closed your eyes
My crushed soul, me and Bobby boy, were in the funeral home
Sorting through the memory of a homeless man
Who moved into our home and made us whole
The reverend then turned to the crowd and asked if someone would share
But nobody had a response, you see
'Cause nobody cares
I find it odd that in death, they comfort all your brothers
When they couldn't care less, except the awful inconvience
Of them splitting the check, 'cause there's no pin here,
No pinch on what you got, what he gets, and we'll get off the And I hope they sweep up nothing
James Kent, hell of a man, you had some (?)
And you had some depth
You gave us life again,
So we gave you somewhere to live
Your whole name was printed in matte
I read, my hands shake,
Beneath you were dashed between the two dates
And left me to stand were I am
The men in the morgue had done such a beautiful job
Of sowing you up
And crossing your arms
I find it odd that in death they circle you with flowers
And they tuck you in bed, where they tell you that they love you
But for twenty-five years you slept beneath the bridge
When you were dying to be (?)
Oh no no no.
I find it odd that in death, they comfort all your brothers
When they couldn't care less, except the awful inconvience
Of them splitting the check, 'cause there's no pin here,
No pinch on what you got, what he gets, and we get off the And I find it odd that in death they circle you with flowers
And they tuck you in bed, where they tell you that they love you
But for twenty-five years you slept beneath the bridge at night
I find it odd that in death, they comfort all your brothers
When they couldn't care less, except the awful inconvience
Of them splitting the check, 'cause there's no pin here,
No pinch on what you got, what he gets, and we get off the I find it odd that in death they circle you with flowers
And they tuck you in bed, where they tell you that they love you
But for twenty-five years you slept beneath the bridge at night