Posts Tagged ‘Suicide’
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.
Current Music: The Streets — Fit But You Know It
Current Mood: calm
I like to give advice to people if I can, but there’s just one area where I’m no good.
I just can’t find anything to say against it… I see people in so much pain, talking about wanting to end it, and I can’t help but think, ‘Yeah, maybe it’s for the best…’
There’s a possibility that I may have to start working up a stand-up routine, and as incredible as it may seem, someone is prepared to help me along the way.
I guess it’s going to have to be mainly mini-narratives and ‘heightened’ auto-biography, because my jokes either aren’t that funny or are designed at pleasing the minority of the audience… ie: myself.
And my Sick Sense parody doesn’t fly at all… although I’d love to see that little kid, hand in hand with Michael Jackson, whispering, “I fuck dead people.”
At the other end of the spectrum, I have been accused of being too cerebral…
“Are there any existentialists in the audience tonight? Really? Are you sure, and if so, how? You can turn in your papers at the door, folks.”
“Look, I don’t want to offend any members of the audience, so forgive me if I just take a quick demographic survey… any black people here? Yes, yes… good… Jews? Alrighty… Suicide victims? No? Ok…. how about failed suicide victims? Yes? QUITTERS!”
I’ll be here all week, but you don’t have to be….
… and they say that mercy’s dead….