A Song for the Dead

The ashen grey muse commissions a new verse
 A song to while away the long sojourn in the hearse
 Yet all of us who danse macabre to these dour, dismal tunes
 Become cold, grim and hard as the dirt upon the tomb
 In darkened dirges death's knell peals out it's toll
 As another cadaver is consigned six feet down to its hole
 But ere the last shovel of dirt falls on the wall of the box
 We gravely offer a salute to those about to rot
 So lift up your severed heads, in a song for the dead
 Life's course ever runs red, so let no lyric remain unsaid
 As from our mouths the melody is bled, in a symphony scripted in red
 Like rats by the piper we're led, to join in this song for the dead
 The humor of the gallons never fails to ring true
 In this dead, bleak, sick world that we're hung, drawn and quartered though
 As each internecine instrument plays its own bloody part
 The hammering of coffin nails outpaces the beating of our hearts
 Symphonic surgery orchestrated, a cleaver conducts
 The execrable epiphany comes too late, just to reduce us to chunks
 Rising up from the sod heaves a gross, putrid breath
 As the chorus is joined in this song for the dead
 So lift up your severed heads, in a song for the dead
 Life's course ever runs red, so let no lyric remain unsaid
 As from our mouths the melody is bled, in a symphony scripted in red
 Like rats by the piper we're led, to join in this song for the dead
 Truncated toccatas deranged, raked across barbed strings and hacked
 Eviscerated etudes for the de-brained, plucked upon heartstring stretched
 On the rack
 Medicinal movements decomposed Regurgitating oratorios obscene
 Forensic fugues and de-boned, mutilating the melody's method and means
 The crepitated coda dies in mid-refrain
 As the sheet-music is obscured by a sanguine scarlet stain
 Shattered stave lodged in your split-open splattered brain
 The ruptured meter falters as the bow is fretted once again
 Acrid arias are screeched
 The bloated thorax is breached
 Abrading viscera with bleach
 Grotesquely gavage the deceased
 Cleaving the clef
 Broken notes bleed into a mess
 Falling on ears so deaf
 So it ever is in death
 Carbonized cantatas corrupt ringing out, sewing seeds of dischord and
 Dismay
 Suppurated sonatas erupt, purulent pizzicatos slicing every which way
 The truncated cadence is sundered, bloody scraps of sheet music
 Unintellibly scrawled
 Threnodies resonate six feet under, to where all life's fractured melodies
 Will finally resolve
 The symphonic slaughter's swells without restraint
 As the cacophonous cadenza splits your eardrums clean in twain
 The repugnant orchestra pit an abattoir of death and pain
 The hatchet falls in sharp staccato until everyone is slain