(MARK):
Hello, everybody
I'm the man of the house
I'm a steel trap cranium in a poet's blouse
We're gathered here because it's quite unfortunate
That everybody's late to asking someone already late

The question is
Was the perfectionist
Imperfect and a victim to the human mystery of apathy
Cold depravity
Resulting in a tragedy of grim fatality

Slow down
Hey, calm down
Hey man, can you wind down
Let's catch our breath
Let's takе a sit
My lungs aren't working, so deal with it

The rеprieve of death is that regurgitating anything from living life isn't as nauseating
No need for breath, I'm done asphyxiating
No need for flesh, all of my body's rotting

You would know, you've been here with me
Just watching
Time ticks and skips
It tocks and rips
It docks and flows and it never shifts
The reprieve of you is that the point of view
Isn't stained glass tainted rosy hues
Lost all to lose
Chose all to choose
All views abused and used

Academic conman at the age of eleven
Already mastered public speaking before I was even seven
Eleven years later when they see me on posters
I'm already a household name

(THE MANOR, sarcastically):
Wowzer

(MARK):
Found at a young age in theatre
My mother was a well-known opera singer
Just like her mother, grandmother and father before her
Although my old man was a music professor

I'm a thespian, a philanthropic, metaphoric kind of guy
Versed in all sorts of topics
Averse to conflict
A verse to contradict
The verses that the critics love to spit
I'm a man of words
They put my name in the billings just to draw in herds
I don't do things in halves
Certainly not in thirds
But I'm a hypocrite
I waltz 'til my feet hurt

But would all of this be enough
To put together the picture and call out the murderer's bluff
Would motive come clear and stark
To harken attention 'til they've hit the mark

Slow down, hey calm down
Hey man, can you wind down?
Something's wrong
The body's gone
A dirge for him
In that he died so young

The reprieve of life is that you keep pretending
That happy ever after is the default ending
The truth is never all that you've read
I'd know because I'm fucking dead

Maybe all the photographs will lead to answers
Maybe we can find someone who meant danger
(ABE):
The body was stabbed 37 times
Poisoned
Beaten
Strangled
Drowned
Shot

(MARK):
Who had the time?

The scattered photos around show faces
Familiar though young
You can't mistake them
The Mayor, Colonel, Actor and someone else
A young girl sitting on the stairwell

And something catches the Attorney's eye
As what Damien once said comes to mind
A wedding photo in a shattered frame
Another of Wil and Mark, playing a game

Another of them in neat, pressed suits
Another when they were younger with the girl
Another with all four much older
Of Mark and the beautiful woman shoulder to shoulder

Just both of them for frames and frames
They both look happy, caught in the rain
But she wasn't at the party, was she?
Where was she?

(with COMPANY):
She looks like Damien
Could it be?

(ABE):
Detective
Can I borrow your partner here?

(MARK):
Oops
Looks like you'll have to pause your sleuthing

Slow down
Hey calm down
Hey man can you wind down
Did the beat distract you from keeping score?
Oh, quoth the Raven
"Nevermore."

The reprieve of this is that we get to tell it
For however long it takes to forget it
We can let this tempo go on and on
But bitch, this ain't Hamilton