Lately I've been wondering why we dress up when people die As if the straightness of our ties could iron out our crooked minds 'Cause there was no grace when boys became men overnight With painted on strength and suit and tie at their father's funeral I carry the dead in the shortness of my breath But I can't see the point in measuring every step I take away from it Cause I don't want to just be alive in photographs Confronting mortality on an empty stomach (Life still went on, with or without)