My Death

My death waits like an old roué

so confident I'll go his way

whistle to him and the passing time...

My death waits like a bible truth

at the funeral of my youth

weep loud for that -

and the passing time...

My death waits like

a witch at night

as surely as our love is bright

let's not think about the passing time

But whatever lies behind the door

there is nothing much to do...

angel or devil, I don't care

for in front of that door...

there is you.

My death waits like a beggar blind

who sees the world through an unlit mind

throw him a dime

for the passing time...

My death waits there between your thighs

your cool fingers will close my eyes

lets think of that and the passing time

My death waits to allow my friends

a few good times before it ends

so let's drink to that and the passing time

But what ever lies behind the door,

there is nothing much to do

angel or devil I don't care

for in front of that door... there is you

My death waits there among the leaves

in magicians mysterious sleeves

rabbits and dogs and the passing time

my death waits there among the flowers

where the blackest shadow, blackest shadow cowers

let's pick lilacs for the passing time

My death waits there, in a double bed

sails of oblivion at my head

so pull up the sheets

against the passing time

But whatever lies behind the door

there is nothing much to do

angel or devil...i dont care

for in front of that door

there is... [audience shout, "Me"]

Thank you.