As you're walkin' down the street
dreaming of a better day
please look down, close to your feet
floats a shadow, and it may
look familiar to your eyes
it is always there for you
never tells you little lies
never gives the slightest clue.
It is Death, your dearest friend
he will stay until you die
go, look down but do not bend
do not ask him when and why.
Just remember when you fret
that your profit is too meagre
that the only foolproof bet
quite regardless of how eager
you live out your precious time
is the fact that it will end.
Up the ladder you may climb
when suddenly the Gods will send
one brief signal to your keeper
and you slide, with care, back down
as he shows you, your grim reaper:
No pockets in your final gown.
Sunday, September 4, 2005