Dead on paper. Still a problEM. Birth nAME, work nAME, sign by the dirt stAIN, clerk says the first nAMe's missing from the third pAge. Girl, that's my NAme. Check what the form SAYs. Been here four dAYS, sleeping in the doorWAY. Mortician with a mortGAGE, mortified at my appearance, said the death was just a clerical procedure, not a clearance. Got a pulse? Get a permit. Got a permit? Need a witNESS. WickNESS took a lunch break. Now they're calling it a sickNESS. Little Miss MisPRINT lipSTICK on the diSTRICT seal, peel it back, feel the teeth in the business. Click-click, Submit, sick little System, put a tICK in the box TIll the box Is a prIson. Took a number, took a sEAT, took the sHIT they had allotted, then I took the little bell and made the whole reception watch it. Ding. That's for the dead girl. Ding. That's for the living. Third one's for the bastard who keeps saying there's no difference. Dead on paper. Still a problem. Stamp me out? You fucking thought so. Dead on paper. Still a problem. I don't rest in peace. I keep the neighbors up. Got a halo on the payroll, angel with a stapler, said she'd save my soul if I could come back sometime later. Saint Peter's in the basement with a counterfeit diploma, Cerberus is checking bags and chewing up the toner. Obituary, ordinary, order me a copy, put a pretty little ribbon on the mess and call it tidy. I've been billed for the burial, billed for the breathing, charged for the room I was told I was leaving. Nice suit, white tooth, bite through the fine print, life in a file with a lie where the line is. My handwriting's shit, but that signature's not mine. Funny how the ink dries quicker when it's your life. You want a quiet girl? Get a fucking mannequin. Put her on the board. Let her manage all the damages. I brought my own pen. I ain't asking you to fix it. Crossed out DECEASED. Wrote BACK IN A MINUTE. Dead on paper. Still a problem. Stamp me out? You fucking thought so. Dead on paper. Still a problem. I don't rest in peace. I keep the neighbors up. Copy to the coffin, copy to the council, copy to the clown with the crown and the mouthful of apologies, policies, honestly, save it. You can keep the folder. I'm the one who fucking made i Dead on paper. Still a problem. Stamp me out? You fucking thought so. Dead on paper. Still a problem. I don't rest in peace. I keep the neighbors up. Still a problem.
