What if I do and what's it to you and where will you be when the clock stops at..me
I don't care if I go, there's other places I know where the music plays on and long after everyone's gone.


I wear hurt on my T-shirt and I wash it when full, pull my hair out or scream and sometimes I dream that I'm there, dirt
in the present, in the presence of him,
how grim would that be?

So if I do or I don't arrive precisely at those pearly gates,
no one or someone who possibly waits
won't be surprised.