If you died I’d miss the funeral
I’d simply keep away from it all
I’d deny the truth
and pretend I still had you

If you died I’d wait till midnight
Then I’d go to your grave and cry
I’d lean on your headstone
and pretend I was leaning on you

If you died I’d cry very often
But no one would see my eyes wet
I’d visit your grave with a book and pen
and I’d write with no intention of an end

If you died I’d want to follow you
But we both know I never could
So instead I’d blame myself for it
as the cause of all your suffering

If you died I’d wipe my eyes
And pretend I never ever cried
Then I’d put on my big plastic grin
*and survive with the pain within