Bury me with a pen in my hand and a spiral notebook if you can
So I can continue to scribble my words of kibble
Of a lifetime in line tasting all of life's nibbles
You can't cut in line when it's not your time to go
But the best desserts are served last, this much I know
Until that time when I say my final goodbye
I write in awe of a life that makes me laugh as I cry
So special this life it must be immortalized
Or risk memories fading as dreams never realized
But after I die with a pen in tight rigor mortis grip
Throw in some paper for my next upcoming trip
Boldly or timidly, I'll ask my God to decide
Whether I enjoyed this gourmet banquet that He did provide
(and did I get my fill before I died?!)
Because I'm the one that writes my own menu
With every bite of life that I do chew
The price I pay for all of these nibbles
Are purchased by all of my handwritten scribbles
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 2:11 PM UTC
Bury me with a pen in my hand and a spiral notebook if you can
So I can continue to scribble my words of kibble
Of a lifetime in line tasting all of life's nibbles
You can't cut in line when it's not your time to go
But the best desserts are served last, this much I know
Until that time when I say my final goodbye
I write in awe of a life that makes me laugh as I cry
So special this life it must be immortalized
Or risk memories fading as dreams never realized
But after I die with a pen in tight rigor mortis grip
Throw in some paper for my next upcoming trip
Boldly or timidly, I'll ask my God to decide
Whether I enjoyed this gourmet banquet that He did provide
(and did I get my fill before I died?!)
Because I'm the one that writes my own menu
With every bite of life that I do chew
The price I pay for all of these nibbles
Are purchased by all of my handwritten scribbles
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