michaels bones

michael's bones
lay where he fell
face down on sports ground
he was just somebody's luckless son
oh but now look what he's done
oh look what he's done.
your gentle hands are frozen
and your unkissed lips are blue
your thinning clothes
are hopeless and no one was mad about you.

michael's bones
were very young
but they were never to know
impetuous fun
mr policeman, i don't know
where you get such notions from.
his gentle hands are frozen
and his unkissed lips are blue
but his eyes still cry.

and now you've turned the last bend
can you see, are we all judged the same
in the end? tell me, tell me.
oh luckless thing
you were too brave
and i'm ashamed of myself, as usual.

—morrissey