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âWhen weâre dead & gone, I guarantee theyâll wish they knew us.
You remember Ledford?â âOh, yeah, I knew old Louis!
Last I heard him up in Bellingham, down on the corner,
screaming the praises of the Wild Tchoupitoulas.â
Weâll be gone from here and dead, and only a few of us
had even a clue of us.
âWhen weâre dead and gone, I do believe it, then theyâll miss us!â
âYou remember Fishkin?â âYeah, man, Bobby was a canvasâ¦
Genius, money, dream, and drink, and darkness â
wasnât anything he didnât get hit with.â
Weâll be gone from here and dead, and almost hopeless,
with only each other to know this â I know that.
I know that it may be just like this after all â after all the blood and song.
I can only hope it feels this good when weâre dead and gone.
âWhen weâre dead and gone, theyâll have to find us in our footprints.â
âTrying to capture Arriaga â those tracksâll leave em all hoodwinked,
disappearing first from one direction, then cropping up
perfectly opposite when they came in .â
Weâll be gone from here and dead a thousand years
before they see: she was a raven.
âWhen weâre dead and gone, theyâre gonna carve us up in granite!â
âStuff us into pamphlets!â âQuake for our caskets in transit!â
âLionize the night we rang like bells on the banks of the Susquehanna!â
Weâll be gone from here and dead, the echo aching,
crawling back, but we outran it. I mean it.
I know that it may be just like this after all â after all the sky and bone.
I can only hope it feels this good when weâre dead and
Here, we were a while. Here, we worked the plow.
Heroes for the flowers, here we are still now.
I know that it may be just like this after all â after all the life on loan.
I can only hope it feels this good when weâre dead and gone.
When weâre dead and gone.
Dead and gone.