I'll brush my teeth before I die.
I'll shave and shower
and empty my bowels.
I'll put on a pair of my comfy underpants,
select the good socks,
slip my feet into my birkenstocks
and wrap myself in my father's heavy dressing gown.
That will be enough for my Maker.
And for the poor sod
who finds me in my arm chair.

But I'll be sure to leave
my bath towel on the floor.