All the Dying

(Dying, dying, dying) When I see a face of anonymity Crying on the street it does something to me I make believe malady Tragedy (dying, dying, dying) Flowers on the grave is a beautiful thing 'Cause flowers on the grave still means they're getting something But when the flowers ain't there And the grave is bare I think of old dead bones that don't get theirs I think of all the butchers and all the beef I think of all the flies in all the heat I think of all the dying and dying and dying Dying and dying and decomposing Dying and dying's for real When I see the damned in their dyer straights Damning all the men with those American names I say, don't damn the man damn your hand For making a fist and shaking it all around Damn the hand Damn your hand Or you can damn the butchers and damn the beef Or you can damn the flies in all the heat Or you can damn the dying and dying and dying (Fuck) Dying and dying and decomposing Dying and dying's for real Dying and dying and pounds of posey Dying and dying's forever When I hear the crying of a siren in the night I think of piles of writhing people Fighting for their lives Yeah, I see an image of a body Broken and beet red I hear the a cappella angels Singing for the dead I think of all the butchers and all the beef I think of all the flies in all the heat I think of all the dirt that lays a bed for bones I think of all the words that get written on the stones I think of all the surf that come crashing over souls I think of all the dying All the dying All the dying All the dying --- All The Dying - Mother Mother