I'm hearing overtures from Overton Road
From the back on the left of the cemetery hill
where my ancestors lie perfectly still
time to join them it's getting late
Echoing past these old stone gates

They are calling me to hurry up soon
Get a good position on the South face
ust north of the man in the moon
With the Retsons, Shaws and a young Jock McBride
not far from the Cunninghams on the other side

Staring into the fire when I was eleven
Songs of Praise, then Sing Something Simple
On a Sunday night a new fear of heaven
Not contemplating the end but something close
My first wave at going was gone
Waving back was the glimpse of a ghost.

Like the Legions of Romans before us
My tribe will pass in the valley below
Positioned in stone near the Carman Hill
with a ready view to go when they go
despite any faith or cult of modernity
or foolproof new frontier medical skill.

I'm never going over the hill
never for good always for ill
No fire for me just a humanists will
Lay me down gently with no clatter
when I join these weary bones
and ashes that no longer matter.

Premier back tier on the cemetery hill
with my ancestors I lie perfectly still
A Bonnie view of Union Street
Hallelujah its floating in the sky
A final beat on the Overton Road retreat
Drum Roll the Dice forever
but cast my final Die.