With the casket closed they sing the final song
But will they remember me when I am gone?
And if so then what will they say about me?
When I’m not there to taste or hear or see
To speak of me, well, they must recall
My thoughts, words and deeds then must stand tall
Stand high enough for searching minds to see
Or be lost in the thick fog of anonymity
So, will they ever hope to remember me?
If I don’t leave a token, some enduring legacy
The question life asks is by no means obscure
Just what is that legacy that will endure?
Would it suffice to accumulate wealth?
Resplendent with treasure but no moral health?
Some grand accomplishment all on my own
But fail in the simpler things closer to home
Will it really matter that I ruled an empire
Yet not my own passions my tongue, a raging fire
Giving glorious speeches when called to do so
But never a kind word for the poor hurting soul
So what will it be?
What will they say?
This man was kind
This fool was vain
He recklessly squandered his wealth on his lovers
He spent himself living in service to others
He was hedged to his ears on the market of course!
Or invested in people, Gods greatest resource?
Did he define himself by the position he’s in
Or his passion for relationships finally defined him?
With the casket closed they sing the final song
But what will they say of me when I am gone?
