This is a nice afternoon to be dying
Peaceful and clean now you see me
Old rattle-chest politely lying
Exchanging death-bed pleasantries

Talking insurance and God and my pension
We know it is true, I am going
No point in cursing or dissension
He's had enough
His heart is slowing down

There's only one thing I feel makes death sweeter
It brings relief from mistakes made
From debts that dog us and defeat us
From lies and ties
The whole mad masquerade

So barely half here, I wait for my password
Then I will leave life dutifully
And it won't matter what I make my last word
All they remember is
I said it beautifully