Murder and Create Million Dead

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How should I begin?
I find myself residing
At the dried out end of a dead history
All my thoughts are dirt
Scattered on a coffin
And I a dilettante funeral spectator here

How should I presume?
A besuited bourgeois mourner
Virgin to surrender and vivid sense
I scour lichened stones
Desperately seeking
Daedalus's paternal secret of where we will land

Well I was born with four fingers on each hand
And with my eight fingers and my thumbs I do maths

Once again, how should I begin?
I've started weak and I'm stuttering
But I have remembered all my lines
It seems that I have thus presumed
To talk of maths in front of crowded rooms
But I'll make the two times table mine

How should I begin?
I find myself residing
At the dried out end of a dead history
How should I presume?
A besuited bourgeois mourner
Virgin to surrender and vivid sense?