Number Our Days - Max Tundra

Nothing happens when you die

You don’t leave your body or fly off into the sky

The deities you count on were just made up by some guy

Nothing happens when I cry

Reminds me of the time I called you up to say goodbye

A pint of chicken soup comes falling from my eye

It’s a winsome isolation I declare

Your engineering knocks me out of my chair

If mechanicals observed are what we are

Then number our days and point me to the car

Nothing happens by degrees

Your furtive semaphore is hidden by the trees

My predecessor always said you were a tease

Nothing happens every year

I scare a few more people off by saying 'dear'

What is it about my companionship you fear?

Every sentimental minute in your hands

Fills your Januaries with my plans

This is why we leave our ancestors alone

So number our days and lead me to the stone