By Nicholas Hayes
I've done my best, Now I'm just stressed, over this mess I've made;
As I've begun, I haven't won, at this game I've played.
If I've said this before, I'll say it again;
If I were to die, please don't mourn the damned,
If I keel over, don't remember who I am.
If I bite the dust, Sweep it under the carpet.
If I kick the bucket, just forget about it, cus' of the mistakes I've made.
This is a sad serenade.
Now you may ask; "What have you done, that makes you think that way?"
And honestly when I think about it, I don't know what to say.
If you say I'm a good man, do you know who I am?
This harp's cords are frayed.
If I were to die, please don't mourn the damned,
If I keel over, don't remember who I am.
If I bite the dust, Sweep it under the carpet.
If I kick the bucket, just forget about it, cus' of the mistakes I've made.
This is a sad serenade.
Time carries on, and it will con, all our life away.
If you were to paint me, thank you but, I don't deserve a frame.
What I want to say, may already have been said, but you good friend, shouldn't miss me when I'm dead.
When the reaper comes, you should thank him well, cus' when I leave, I'm going straight to hell.
If that was obvious, I am so sorry, cus' if I've hurt you now, it's my turn to bleed.
So I've said what has needed to be said, now in summary, please don't miss me when I'm dead.
If I were to die, please don't mourn the damned,
If I keel over, don't remember who I am.
If I bite the dust, Sweep it under the carpet.
If I kick the bucket, just forget about it, cus' of the mistakes I've made.
This is a sad serenade.
