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Contemplating final words. Lyrics from summer twenty-fifteen.
If I was lying in a gutter with a bullet in my chest,
What would I want to sing to you before I'm laid to rest?
What song would be my legacy? What line my final words?
What music would I give to you - the last of mine to be heard?
If you were my only son, if you were my truest friend,
If you were my lifelong long, what would I whisper in the end?
One last chance to tell my story. My final breath to sing a song.
Seconds before finality. Of a life I thought so long.
I couldn't give a blessing; I have no blessing to give.
No wisdom to share of eminent death, because I've only ever lived.
I wouldn't sing a prayer or psalm or shout a hymn up to a god.
No prediction of heaven or hell, because now is all I've got.
I have no final answer nor revelation of what's true
No motto, moral, or meaning of life to share with you
So when I'm lying in a gutter with a bullet in my chest,
What will I want to sing to you before I'm laid to rest?