Civilian - James Kent Lyrics
James Kent, son of a *****You were my best friendWhen you set your head down on the train tracksSaid “This is it” and closed your eyesMy crushed soul, me and Bobby BoydWere in the funeral homeSorting through the memory of a homeless manThat moved into our home and made us wholeThe reverend then turned to the crowdAnd asked if someone would shareBut nobody had a response, you see, because nobody caresI find it odd that in death they comfort all your brothersWhen they couldn’t care lessExcept the awful inconvenience of them splitting the checkBecause there’s no panhandle pensionHe got what he gets and they get off the hookI hope they sleep some nightJames Kent, hell of a manYou had some substanceYou had some depthYou gave us life again so we gave you somewhere to liveYour whole name is printed in matteI read, my hands shakeBeneath you a dash between the two datesThat led me to stand where I amThe man in the morgue had done such a beautiful jobSewing you up and crossing your armsI find it odd that in deathThey circle you with flowers and they tuck you in bedWhere they tell you that they loved youBut for twenty-five years you slept beneath a bridgeWhere you were dying of AIDS and smoking a crack pipe
