Sometimes, the dead are better friends than the living
Because they’re the only ones who understand
That even after you’re gone, you keep on giving
And even though I can’t remember your face,
I heard your name a thousand times.
If I was born a man, it would have been mine.
Thanks for giving me comfort and thanks for being my friend
I stood out there in the cold and felt a hand on my shoulder
And you reminded me that it wasn’t the end.
Sometimes, the dead don’t really die
And they’re kinder than the living, because they don’t ask “why”.
They don’t make you cry and they don’t lie
And lie and lie and ignore you as you die.
You beg the sky in vain for a moment of reprieve
The living walk away when you’re screaming on your knees
The dead linger ’cause they see what the betrayed heart sees.
I don’t know the story, but the statement was clear
And I’m sure you made plenty of people live in fear
I know you made them question the very core of their hearts
And some of their fragile brains probably fell apart
Because, sometimes when you’re living a life you cannot save,
Dying with a smile on your face is far more brave.
I bet today, so many people you never even knew
Are haunted–and they get chills down their spine
When they remember you
You died like the Joker and made them all think
So thank you for being my friend
And bringing me back from the brink.
Sometimes, the dead never really die
And on the days they walk the Earth,
They comfort old friends who cry.
They see how much the broken really try
And they remind the wicked hearts among us
How wrong it is to lie.
Thank you for reminding me that someone is always there
Even if it feels like no one alive could understand or care.
12/15/25
