No Tickets to the Funeral

Pile the bodies higher
Climb to the top so the world can see
The depth of your sympathy
Worn as it is upon your sleeve
Where’s the true compassion
In this vapid, sickly cult
Of worshipping celebrity?
Struck with my mortality
Dazed by the reality
Forced upon my eyes
Dying from the time we’re born
But few are prepared
To be told it’s time
Tell my friends I fought
Tell my friends I struggled
Tell my friends I gave it all I had
There won’t be any tickets to this funeral
(the curtain is falling)
There won’t be any story in the news (silenced)
No voyeurs masquerading as mourners
There won’t be any tickets left for you
A single one’s a tragedy
A million a statistic
And now it’s all come down to me