Long Lost Tongues
The dead tell much more interesting stories than the living.
All we want to talk about is now and ahead,
like the arrow’s path,
always aiming for the next target.
They,
they don’t talk at all,
and the silence,
the pale faces,
that’s what really makes us think like Black Hawk Down.
Behind enemy lines.
Behind the lines of modern thinking,
back into our roots,
the oak tree in our yard.
The dead carry no vanity,
they only carry what clothes they’re buried in,
as they step into the boat
to take them across the styx.