Though I stand on a hill
surrounded by death
I will fight as a rule
to my very last breath
Though I rest on a cliff
with doom on all sides
I will dote more or less
on my bullish last rides
Though I wait in a place
knowing not when or how
I will hope on the whole
for a clean final bow
There is no dead reckoning
For those lost in naivete
They believe what they believe
Not what truth and science say
There is no awakening
For those trapped by lunacy
They insist what they presume
Often evil-mindedly
There is no dead reckoning
For those blind to subterfuge
They know only what they know
Much like Ebenezer Scrooge
When it's time to go
Crow for all you had
Make peace with your life
Choices good and bad
When it's time to go
Kvell for all you made
Pardon your free will
Ofttimes badly played
When it's time to go
Vaunt for all you saw
Wipe your whole slate clean
With leave-taking awe
Thank you for the heartbeats
Between the kicks and crawls
For waves that lap the shore
Like hard and fast applause
Thank you for the deep breaths
Betwixt the ropes and floats
For flags that ride the tides
Like anchored pleasure boats
Thank you for the heartbeats
Between the rides and swims
For seas that steel the soul
Like atheistic hymns
Such wee astronomical odds
One in 400 quadrillion
The likelihood of coming forth
For all stagey stuff vaudevillian
Such short-lived theatrical runs
From kickoff to culmination
The ne plus ultras vanishing
On the road to dour damnation
Still alive at 65
Bum hip and heart still going
Gimp and weak but still airborne
Old age and wrinkles showing
Still alive at 65
Keen zest for life still humming
Beat and licked but still aloft
On strings of longtime strumming
Still Alive at 65
Glad rosiness still blooming
Low on fuel but still in flight
My final crash site looming
Do not go gently is for gulls
Winging at the speed of light
Proud peacocks spreading jauntily
Their feathers of divine birthright
For that good night is for the birds
Held captive by audacity
Vain fettered fowl behind blear bars
Imprisoned by rapacity
