Ex-plicit

If you find my bones beside you
In the morning when you wake up
You can rest knowing I left
In spite of myself
And put what remains of me
Up to collect dust upon the shelves
Intermingled with pictures
And clippings from our victory days
I'll come back and haunt you
In the most magnificent ways
You can wear that small black number
And sing the songs I wrote
When I burned up the night
With my guitar and cigarettes.