I’ve been askin’ myself
About death among friends.
Is it always unfair?
Well I guess it depends.
When a close one departs
Who’s to read farewell lines?
Who’s to say it’s all wrong
Who’s to claim we’ll be fine?

What if death among friends
Makes us all act more real
Scanning graveyards for guys
With a license to kill
What’s been done, what’s been made
What’s been tried, what’s been said
Can’t be measured against
What’s it like to be dead.

We all walk very fast
We all shiver and spin
We all tie ourselves up
To the world we live in
And we rarely evolve
Before we disintegrate
And we’re always too hungry
For dinner at eight

Yet we try to survive
‘Cause it’s all that we have
When there’s light, we turn blind
When there’s sound, we turn deaf
But our money’s not smart
And it can’t make amends
We’re all numb in the end
When there’s death among friends

I’ve been askin’ myself
About death among friends.
Is there anger and rage?
Well I guess it depends.
Why make friends at all
If they eventually die
Without consulting us first
Without telling us why

I’ve been askin’ myself
About death among friends.
Is it always unfair?
Well I guess it depends.
I hate graveyards and stuff
But they’re engraved in my life
And I’ll light candles tonight
For my friend’s saddened wife

Recorded live on Vestry Road, London, Feb. 2018