Bury Me Without Permission

Don’t lay no flowers at my stone, Don’t bring the choir, don’t use your phone. No preacher speech, no black parade — Just toss the dirt where I was made. I ain’t the sum of what you prayed, I ain’t the man that could be swayed. I rode this life with clenched fists tight — No permission to make it right. Bury me without permission, Don’t rewrite this damn admission. I made my peace with rust and sin — Don’t try to dress the man I’ve been. No tombstone truths, no final spin, Just let the silence pull me in. I left no last edition — So bury me without permission. The ground don’t ask who you betrayed, It don’t care what debts you paid. Six feet down don’t owe you grace — It just keeps what time can’t erase. Bury me without permission, No priest, no damn contrition. You can curse or call me kin — But don’t pretend I’d start again. No folded hands, no words rehearsed, I earned the ride, for better or worse. This ain't no superstition — Just bury me without permission.

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