Death Bed

from by Daiquiri

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Death Bed


Why do they make it so hard? How do I do this?
I can't tell
He might have gone to heaven
But he left me here in hell

I was totally lost until he came to help me
He would make numbers dance for a reasonable fee
What will I do without him here to make it work
He asked for so little I would pay anything
He would ask a few questions and make numbers sing
Taxes are too hard for me do not understand
I need financial advice
How will I get through this life

His arms bore markings in ink faded blue
We would sit and discuss matters of my revenue
What will I do without him here to make it work
Last time we spoke I called him and he said that he was not feeling well
He was on his death bed

Taxes are too hard for me do not understand

My accountant died
They hooked him up to machines
It's been a problem ever since
Not for him but for me

He enjoyed himself to death
Went out doing what he loved
Now I can not file my taxes
Now I can't get my refund

I can't get my refund
My refund


from Sequel, released February 11, 2013
When you live in Ottawa, you have to move your car a lot. You can't park anywhere without getting a ticket. This is especially annoying in the winter. I wrote the lyrics to this song walking home from moving my car late one freezing cold night. It struck me crossing Kent and walking through the parking lot at Kent and Gilmour. It's about the sad loss of my accountant, Ron. R.I.P.



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Daiquiri Ottawa, Ontario

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