It's hard to live without you, brother. 
Between the worlds of death and life 
this fool hangs around.
Misunderstanding is in my soul
smouldering, a fire with damp leaves.
My heart's fierce wounds 
given balm  even cured 
by the knowing of you.
Banished to this
foreign land, you are - 
wandering through death. 
Aye,  you were our mother's 
favourite son, 
she knew your time would come 
early:loved, wretched, 
tested, loved again!
Know this, brother 
I'm so glad you were loved. 
Frightened, in pancreatic agony
you said:
 "John, if I were a dog they'd put me down." 
You always knew you would die young. 
That was why you sent your girl 
away, to live.  
Ah, tomorrow as we cross
the quiet white river of time 
you can tell me what to do. 
Mother, you gave birth to him 
with a heart, so heroic, 
so full of heart. 
Mother, sometimes  
I rage over my father's hearth: 
where I grew up; 
birth is luck,
everything drifts into the past,
where we shall all meet at the last.

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