And so the clock strikes twelve as we find ourselves   In a sphere of a clearing in a navy light   There are no stars, just the bars of a car’s headlights   On the leaves in the dead of the night   Silhouette suits step out of the shadows   Into the arena where the cameras roll   See their shoulders strain below the weight of the spades   Stereo plays for a funeral   They say the moon is nearly full   They see their eyes are nearly dry   They know how wonderful, how wonderful it is   To be alive tonight   I leave myself to the earth   To the air   To the ashes   It’s my time   It’s my design   It’s my turn   And I know I won’t be loved   Won’t be saved   Won’t be noticed   Until I learn to love   I hate to learn   To my best beloved I do bequeath   All the anguish and the irony   And all the things we never meant   And those we set out to prevent   I leave myself to the earth   To the air   To the ashes      It’s my time   It’s my design   It’s my turn   And I know I won’t be loved   Won’t be saved   Won’t be noticed   Until I learn to love   I hate to learn   This is my early grave   Where I wait for the light to let me in   Here it comes around again   And I say   Let the light shows and the sounds   Of the orchestra begin   My eternal requiem   For an early grave.