You turn 50 and weird things happen to your sense of permanence. Like, it starts feeling less certain? Ella, Bridget and I were having a dinner conversation on the topic of how we wanted to die (we must have run out of celebrity gossip topics). I said I wanted to die on the dance floor (metaphorically, of course, since no one wants to get death throes' humors on their finest dancing shoes). So, a song was born. My daughter Ella, then age 8, asked nervously if the first line of the song was medically possible. Scott Warren and Morgan Davis provide somber bass and drums, respectively. I played other stuff and took liberties in turning tracks inside out and backwards. P.S. I want this played at my funeral service, while my surviving music budies scream "Free Bird" from the back row.
Some people simply forget to breathe
While others die in their sleep
Some folks bargain with holy men
to go like innocent sheep
But when I know that my time has come
and I surrender my soul
The grains collect in the hourglass
And I'm then one with the whole
All in all, the rise and fall
determines when that final call arrives
As the drones head to the hive
Some people die in a fiery flash
of shiny metal debris
Some lie tethered to tiny tubes
then slowly drift off to sea
But if I venture to make a wish
for how I'd like to depart
I'll be surrounded by all of you
Who've given deep from your hearts
So you know, the ebb and flow
determines when we finally get to go
and drift out on the floe
I just want to die on the dance floor
staring in my baby's eyes
I just want to die on the dance floor
and float up to the sky
I just want to die on the dance floor
lying in my baby's arms
I just want to die on the dance floor
and float up to the stars
I just want to die on the dance floor
gazing at my baby's face
I just want to die on the dance floor
then float up into space.