Terri Schiavo, Requiescat In Pace

I'm not sure if Terri Schiavo was "alive" or not (Derrida never answered that question as far as I remember in that seminar I went to three years ago), and I am not even going to try to answer the moral conundrum of whether the tube ought to have been pulled or not. I don't quite understand why her case is so famous, but it was all over the news, incessantly, for a week or so now. But now that everyone agrees that she is dead, I figure a Lagwagon song will serve as a eulogy.

Can't believe Alison's disease
Flourescent, the storelights describe the end
and I can't forget it
Demons can return. He caught up with her.
Murderous hands cripple her eyes and mind
and I can't blink so

Hail defeat. It's reached everyone.
Plague generation (our last one)

The sun will rise again.
Not for Alison
That's what I see when I look in her eyes
and I can't breath so

Hail defeat. It's reached everyone.
Plague generation (plague generation)

Maybe I can piece together
five cold days in late December.
Stories of a monster swallowed
in a snow covered Lake Tahoe.
Shining in her desperate despair,
Alison was there.
A moment I can freeze but she can't
be the same person she used to be.
Alison is gone. Alison is gone. (Alison is gone)

And Alison resides, on that frozen mountain side.
Thats what I see when I look in her eyes

~Lagwagon "Alison's Disease."