They Let You Down

Is familiar betrayal perhaps the worst

Than not dignifying you with a funeral or hearse

What the fuck are we supposed to do

Without getting to say goodbye to you

Do we sneak into these here trees

Our centre of power and venereal disease

It's we who are left with your tattered soul

To move you on and repair your whole

We will not sweep you under the rug

Despite Ugly friends all jacked up on drugs

Upon callousness I deeply reflect

They're not family, no in death respect.