i never tuned the guitar i play
for your ghost the decaying tune
keeps track of the time i’ve saved
your memory and one day i won’t
recognize the song anymore
and that day i will put it back
in the case like a coffin

i say i talk to myself
but i am really talking to you
out loud it’s just another
habit i need to break
as i am breaking faster than them
i think i will stop trying

but i beg the fools not to cry
for me but to think for once about
the dead canary at the mouth of their
caves and stop making excuses and
dooming me and you and them and
us all to the same fate as me and you

like a gift from your family
not well received
but understood as a nice gesture
and now ugly and out of tune
in the closet
to be cleaned out
at the end of it all