Trumpets are blowing
and angels are soaring
on the other side dear
yes--it's true
they gather in numberless numbers for you

some trinkets to leave with and shells for your hair
they throw money at your feet
as  they gaze
and stare

but there will be no forgetting
as the long sought blood-letting
soon takes grip upon the night

the angels and demons
the pure and the heathens
eagerly await final flight

you have your trinkets to leave with,
the shells in your hair
& soon now you'll be buried in
the depths of despair