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it spread like a fever ahead It was night when you died, my firefly What could I have said to raise you from the dead? Oh could I be the sky on the fourth of July? “Well you do enough talk My little hawk, why do you cry? Tell me what did you learn from the Tillamook burn? Or the Fourth of July? We’re all gonna die.” Sitting at the bed with the halo at your head Was it all a disguise, like Junior High Where everything was fiction, future, and prediction Now where am I? My fading supply “Did you get enough love, my little dove Why do you cry? And I’m sorry I left, but it was for the best Though it never felt right My little Versailles.” The hospital asked should the body be cast Before I say goodbye, my star in the sky Such a funny thought to wrap you up in cloth Do you find it all right, my dragonfly? “Shall we look at the moon, my little loon Why do you cry? Make the most of your life, while it is rife While it is light Well you do enough talk My little hawk, why do you cry? Tell me what did you learn from the Tillamook burn? Or the Fourth of July? We’re all gonna die.”