Take to our seats,
the service is starting.
We are all mourners.

Up upon a pedestal,
lies the dearly departed.
Wrapped in gold and tin.

There are heavy shoulders,
we are all aware;
this could have been avoided.

Coloured hair, typical hat
I do not look out of place,
an alternative funeral march.

We all knew the departed,
we are here tonight.
But who is truly mourning?

Smiles hide in sobs,
and looks are hidden
behind weeping hands.

That one in the casket
was not unloved
but now we are free.

We have thrown black clothing,
and thrown away pretences,
duet funeral for simplicity.

We welcome the change,
but we truly mourn the loss,
a celebration of tragedy.