Feels Like Old Times

All the ladies of the parish send
their flowers
their thoughts
their prayers
(but not themselves)

Don’t you deserve to die
like a star going out
like the sun stopped shining?
Don’t you deserve to die
on the ten PM news? 

Shame to see you wither
On a lonely vine
In a good clean place
In a good clean room. 

Shame to see you wither
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust.
No one to miss you but me.
I’ll clean up. 

Beep beep.
Beep beep. 

Hey, Mama!
First time I seen you
keep time.
First time I seen you
on time. 

You used to talk but you never did listen.
Now you’re stuck with me,
The last Catholic you raised,
The last Catholic in all of Hamtramck.
You never did listen but now you don’t talk.

Feels like old times.
Feels this way all the time. 

Beep beep.
Beep beep. 

Hey, Mama!
Slack jaw makes sense now.
Cancer signed all your checks.
A medical martyr now, not just
A drunk housewife.
Red hair from the bottle
Red face from the bottle
Oh man, old man death
Looks so good on you. 

Feels like old times.
Feels this way all the time. 

Beep beep.
Beep beep. 

Libretto by Kim Davies