I have missed you since I was 19
And I don't recall your eyes but your hands I do recall,
and I know how you smelt when you were alive.
You died - like we're all gonna go someday.
You died. I was there and I wish you'd stayed.
They say you crossed a river to touch God's hand
but I did not understand where he lived.
So I tried to write him letters - letters of demand,
saying "He's my pole - back you give him"
I didn't see you die, I didn't see your casket.
Don't remember if I cried, but I never quite got past it.
You're fragile like a bee, and skinny as a steeple,
and all these memories - are they mine or other peoples?
When you died - like we're all gonna go someday,
I was five and I thought I could make you stay.