Good Night

Do not go gently into that good night.
Old age should born and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightening they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me know with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do no go gently into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light
     — Dylan Thomas

For Rob, who didn't rage enough.

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Kelley delivers an excellent eulogy as Acidman would have done it himself.