Do not let my corpse preserve
The memory held in my spine’s curve.
The echoes of all that I’ve done and seen
Rise in the air and soar on wings,
And the skeleton that hides within my flesh
Is only a cage that serves as their crèche.
Bound inside the cage’s supple nerve
To keep the remembering song’s reverb.

Do not let my body hold on
With fevered hands clutching the dawn.
The cool, restful soil is all that I want;
It’s all I desire for my soul to haunt.
My friends will then tread on the path that is paved
By the flowers that grow from the top of my grave,
As I crumble down until I am gone
And no longer lie beneath the earth’s green lawn.

Do not let my corpse preserve.
My memories I surrender from my spine’s single curve.
No longer bound by my cage’s fine nerve,
Remembering no longer the song’s reverb.
Please, do not let my body hold on;
I no longer wish to see the next dawn.
I wish to crumble, to fade, to be gone:
I wish to vanish from the earth’s fair lawn.

The echoes of all that I’ve done and seen:
No more will they rise in the air on their wings.
Now, gone the skeleton from inside my flesh,
No longer my cage; no longer my crèche.
The cool, sleeping soil I cannot now want:
My soul is now gone and new sites it now haunts.
And my friends’ souls will tread on paths that are paved
On the echoes of flowers that grew from our graves.