If death should fine me all too soon
by rain of day or dark of moon
what of me would the most you miss
and what would you forget too soon?
If tomorrow is the day
when my eyes blue should fade to gray
would you spread me o’er the sea
and by the shoreline would you stay?
If I should perish by the morn
and face the wrath of judgement’s scorn
would you not feel a single thing
or would in half your heart be torn?
I fear that shall I meet my end
the prayers for me may never send
that all that I will leave behind
are legacies of sheer pretend.