The Crier

I'm always thinking 'bout your death
wonderin' how it's gonna be

not so much how it's gonna go for you,
but what it's gonna do for me

I think about the tragedy,
huffed out in the messages I left for ex-lovers
the cryptic status updates posted to invoke the most sympathy in others and the desper---

HEY
don't look at me that way
you're due to die some day
and if you've gotta go
don't do it easily
let's make a melodrama
monetize the eulogy
I'll write a poem about it - I mean a hit song
I want the world to know
just how hard it's gonna be for me to carry on
and be whole again in the role of The Crier

I don't want to bring another dog home
that's the last thing I need
best to leave it alone

not that I would breakdown
but I'd have to shake down all the new sheets

ya I see what you mean
about publicized grieving
but I've got a big mouth to feed and
--- what ----
you don't see a profit in the legacy?
I know if you could speak
you'd say it's too soon
but it's the right time
to reach the consumer
these t-shirts ain't gonna sell themsel--

HEY
don't look at me that way
you know how I get paid

It happened slow at first
a couple bulletins
I got some comments back
I wanted more of them
they made me feel as if
my life was more important
when life was boring
I resorted to distorting it, yo
I started posting pics
I made a video
I hit refresh to check my hits every minute or so
I look for validation in that heart-shaped icon
it's a long ride hustlin' down that short road I'm on

I was stronger when I didn't have a feedback loop,
I could hear my own truth
now I long for the self-assured oblivion of youth,
when I didn't have to sweat that click-through
when the line between the marketing and artistry is blurred
the heart of your art is obscured