If life were like a mountain, did you, did you not fall?   I have missed you since I was five.   And I don't recall your eyes but your hands I do recall,   and I know how you smelt when you were alive.      You died - like we're all gonna go someday.   You died. I was five and I wish you'd stayed.      They say you crossed a river to touch God's hand   but I did not understand where he lived.   So I tried to write him letters - letters of demand,   saying "She's my sister - back you give her"      You died - like we're all gonna go someday.   You died. I was here and you went away.      I didn't see you die, I didn't see your casket.   Don't remember if I cried, but I never quite got past it.   You're fragile like a bee, and skinny as a steeple,   and all these memories - are they mine or other peoples?      When you died - like we're all gonna go someday,   I was five and I thought I could make you stay.