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