Who am I to keep you from dying

If you can no longer live

In the suit you’ve been given to die in

If you’ve fallen so far you don’t want to be saved

Then perhaps you’d like an escort to your grave

Your blood is on your own hands

One Michael is living; the other is dead

What was it that got into Michael’s head

My brother was an alcoholic

He shot himself in the heart

And then he was dead

Why did I feel obligated to this in my head

Your brother is an alcoholic

He shot you in the heart

And then he was dead

What was it that got into Michael’s head

To mourn the living as if they are dead

Who am I to keep you from dying

If you can no longer live

In the suit you’ve been given to die in

Am I my brother’s keeper from descent 

Are his shadows mine to tend

Are his accolades mine to give

To mourn the living as if they live