IN CONVERSATION WITH… My Funeral
This week’s song is inspired by this news article about the most popular songs for funerals (‘My Way’ remains the stand-out fave, but there are some up and coming challengers).
Of course, the irony of having someone else singing ‘My Way’ — in itself a song about someone else, written by that person and made popular by yet another person — would be anathema to me.
So, I wrote the following song to be played at my own funeral — preferably through speakers set into my coffin, which I expect to be fully pimped and tricked out by The Parisite.
Or the attendees will have to listen via Silent Disco headsets so my voice goes straight into their brain.
If you are hearing this it means that I am dead
Or missing and I’m not expected to turn up again
I wonder what I did this time; Did I do it to myself
But I’m glad that I pre-wrote this song, so I get to toast YOUR health
I bet you’re all pretty glad you’re not me
I mean… even more than normally
So raise you’re glasses, unless you’re not allowed to drink in here
Would it bloody kill them to let all my friends have a beer
As they remember me?
You’ll note I’m speaking of you ‘plurally’
In the hope I haven’t driven you all away…
With one notable exception, and that’s YOU, Dave… I mean it, get out of here.
So now I’m dead; what became of all my dreams?
My bright burning ambitions; Did I buy Playstation 3?
I can’t bite your head off
So now’s the time to tell me…
I’m assuming I failed to create the virus
That would turn us all into zombies,
But now’s the perfect time to tell you
Dave has herpes.
What are you still doing here Dave?
Except for giving me the chance
To kick your arse from beyond the grave?
It’s possible I’ve died from my own bitterness and rage…
But the important thing is I fit in the box
And I still look good on the stage…
This coffin doesn’t make my arse look fat, does it?
And if you think that does, well screw you, you can kiss it
In truth I’m sad that I’m gone, life is short so don’t miss it.
Except you, Dave.