Phil Hoffman Is Dead

Buried under paperwork buried right under my skin
Buried in the catacombs where none who are living come in
Red raw and pock marked and everyone knows where you've been
Get back on and ride before you even begin
It's one thing or another, sisters and brothers, I cried
Is that relief or desperation in the sound of your sigh?
Is that belief that heaven's waiting after goodbye?

Goddamn vultures circling over the smell
And the photographs are stark but no one heard the warning bells
And I can't get you a bargain but it's gonna be a tough sell
Buy it in bulk 'cause this shit casts a hell of a spell
Ain't it hypocritical? Ain't it cynical of me
To sit here and make a song out of tragedy?
They say not to borrow they say that you must be a thief

Christ was a tragic figure some they would say
And the folly of youth haunts a man til his dying day
And it's Ledger in the PM and Hoffman with an Ace of Spade
And that's somebody's child and father you're judging that way
So take some more photos as the family arrives at the wake
I don't make the flashes but dammit you know I hate snakes
Is nothing sacred? This must be some kind of mistake

Get that nose to the grind and keep your pretty head down
I'll call you later and we'll go to dinner uptown
The magnolia blossom and the ladies are wearing their gowns
To watch the master accept his last thorny crown
There's something in the shadows something that I must have missed
There's something in the back of my mind that I can't resist
My will is fading and I feel like I don't even exist

Hold on Uncle Johnny hold on and keep pulling through
Your daughter is waiting she's writing this letter to you
You hid those marks on your arm but she always knew
And those demons you wrestled I guess they were wrestling you
Holy Father, Holy Mother I've sinned
Holy shit, I'm back in this trouble again
Phil Hoffman is dead and my blood's running cold and thin