You were the last one to see him alive
You caught his last breath
And by chance, by coincidence, in death
You visited his next step
Now some do-good guys; from the society
Of traffic safety no less
They want to bring to an end the roadside flowers
No more the marginal messages of condolence
Nowhere for to grieve
For those who have had their lives snatched
Faster than ever you can imagine
Where then lay the souls of these reformers
Which school, of displaced compassion
Do they attend, or form, or manage
Yesterday I saw the young girl at the roadside
Her stare, vaguely out a million miles to nowhere
Her brief life, with its tragic interruption
Is this the peace which they would have taken away
Then do it
And for every colour that they take away
For every hue shed a tear
Then do it
And for every word that they take away
For every word explain then; oh why my dear
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