[not dead yet]
not dead yet, already dying
past fear, without triumph
as the velvet of the cushion
pushes up against my cheek
i've made the playlist for my funeral
divided up my shit
told my password to a close friend
I'll tell the truth from the beyond
So I play my favourite albums, again hear the final song
There's still time
There's still time
to get acquainted with the carpet and the ceiling
to hand hundred dollar bills to strangers
to meet the meanest chicks
to begin
there is so much left to do
there is so much left to do
there is so much left to do
that I can't do; that I won't do
not dead yet, already dying
past fear, without triumph
as the frigid air sucks
the work from my bones
to choose
to choose
to choose
to do what's left to do
to do what's left to do
to do what's left to do
that'll do. that I'll do.