If life were like a mountain, did you, did you not fall?

I have missed you since I was five.

And I don't recall your eyes but your hands I do recall,

and I know how you smelt when you were alive.



You died - like we're all gonna go someday.

You died. I was five and I wish you'd stayed.



They say you crossed a river to touch God's hand

but I did not understand where he lived.

So I tried to write him letters - letters of demand,

saying "She's my sister - back you give her"



You died - like we're all gonna go someday.

You died. I was here and you went away.



I didn't see you die, I didn't see your casket.

Don't remember if I cried, but I never quite got past it.

You're fragile like a bee, and skinny as a steeple,

and all these memories - are they mine or other peoples?



When you died - like we're all gonna go someday,

I was five and I thought I could make you stay.