It’s Memorial Day, 2084. It’s been a hundred years since I was born. And I wonder if there’s anyone who will remember me. Who will see to it that my grave is swept clean?
Will they say I dug my bootheels in, and refused to give up the ghost? Did I hold tight to this temporary thing? Or did I just lie down with that night train roaring in my ears, and close my eyes to dream the endless dream?
It’s Memorial Day, 2084. It’s been a hundred years since I was born. And I wonder if they’ll be around who can breathe a letter of my name. Will the world go on spinning just the same?
Will a great tremor run through the earth, will the oceans turn to steam? Will all the songbirds forget all their songs? No, the stars will just laugh and shine, the tide will rise and fall, and everything will go marching on.
It’s Memorial Day, 2084. It’s been a hundred years since I was born. And I hope that they speak of me with love and not with shame, cuz I’d rather be forgotten than be blamed.
Will all my tattoos fade to dust, as all my words and all my deeds? All memory that I ever even lived? Will all of the saddest girls turn their backs to my stone, or will they find it in their hearts to forgive?
It’s Memorial Day.
credits
from Chickenshit & Tablescraps,
released November 20, 2010
Andrew Dietz: Vocals, guitar
Stan Fick: Drums
Shea Langner: Bass
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