Last words???

jeff black

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In light of this wind/rain/snow storm that is sweeping Canada at the moment, I starting thinking about death.

What would your last words be if you could say them?
 
Jeez, how I'd love to be thunderin' along the highways of Canada with a psycho like you tonight. :rolleyes:

It would certainly be colourful.:tongue: *wonders if Alex can see Blood red, and newly smashed blue?*:rolleyes:

Btw, if you were my co-pilot, there would be nothing to worry about. There would be a pit stop at every gas station for certain "activities":tongue:
 
I think i would take some time to quote Emily, i'd probably sing it to the tune of Amazing Grace:

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.


We passed the school, where children strove
At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.


Or rather, he passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.


We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.


Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.
 
I think i would take some time to quote Emily, i'd probably sing it to the tune of Amazing Grace:
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.


We passed the school, where children strove
At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.


Or rather, he passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.


We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.


Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.

I don't know if this counts as last words, but the sounds you'd hear as I lay dying would be me fatally vomiting while JBT butchers both Emily Dickinson and Amazing Grace.