I sometimes wonder if I will
have a bloody death
or if it will go as smooth
as a baby’s ass
midnight jazz
or a lullaby.
Will I go out into the great night
screaming
enraged
ashamed
or asleep?
The sad thing is
that in the end
it doesn’t even matter
but what does matter is
if there will be enough coffee at my funeral.
Will people enjoy the sandwiches?
And after they put me in the ground
or throw me into the sea
will it be loud
or will it be lonely?
Loud. Unless I go first. (scrapes “Not On My Watch, Vickers” into another cow.)
Love the sandwiches bit. Hahahaha! So you!
hahaha! Those sandwiches better be the shit.
i would write a will that i want my dead body to be burnt if i dont get the chance to jump my self from the very very very high cliff into the ocean =)
I have to agree with you on that…except that I am petrified of heights. But that does sound like a good way to go, purposefully and in control.
the very last control over your life you can have, before finally let go =)
Exactly!