November 18, 1978

Cyanide-laced Kool-aid
We drink this night together
The Angle of Death said so
But they do not forget her

The suicide harangue
Is already in place
900 men and women
No air in this space

“They’ll hurt us, they’ll hurt you”
He cried, “Please, can we hasten?”
“It will not hurt, won’t feel a thing,
Can we please hasten the medication!”

And they did
They died for “Dad”
If there where such thing
We’d all go mad

All now stand alone
In your blurred and scratched
Side-view mirror cracked
Leaving life viciously attacked

“Sad but true” the newspapers say
But maybe they weren’t so wrong
All 900 thinking the same
Did all 900 die in vain?

Maybe not, could not be true
What if they were right?
What if we are living wrong
If Jones and Manson might
Stay and talk awhile
Give us a second to explain
We all might understand
They were not just insane
No matter how we go
Alone or die in spades
There’s no mistaking, we all will go
To join the Black Parade