If life were like a mountain, did you, did you not fall? I have missed you since I was five. And I don't recall your eyes but your hands I do recall, and I know how you smelt when you were alive.
You died - like we're all gonna go someday. You died. I was five and I wish you'd stayed.
They say you crossed a river to touch God's hand but I did not understand where he lived. So I tried to write him letters - letters of demand, saying "She's my sister - back you give her"
You died - like we're all gonna go someday. You died. I was here and you went away.
I didn't see you die, I didn't see your casket. Don't remember if I cried, but I never quite got past it. You're fragile like a bee, and skinny as a steeple, and all these memories - are they mine or other peoples?
When you died - like we're all gonna go someday, I was five and I thought I could make you stay.