They’re here
Ready to party
Because that’s how they died…
That’s how they lived.
Fiesta is their religion…
That’s what’s with all the flowers…
That, and the dead live on and in the scent…
A trail of blossoms leads to their old home.
The dead are here
Ready to be alive…
Like the live are ready to party
And die.
This poem is totally Beach Boys.
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