We Always Die Alone

What can I say?
I think I'm crying
On my last day.
On the day I am dying,
I lay here abed,
The pen trembling in my cold fingers.
And here in my head,
Are the angelic singers.
I have so much to say,
So much to tell you.
And in my own way,
I'll write what I want to.
I hate to write long things,
Because I know I'd never read them.
So I must change, it seems,
Even if I about to end.
First thing's first--
Take care of my cats.
I'm thinking the worst,
Please give my love to those brats!
And then, after that,
I have a very difficult task for you...
Find someone to yell at,
Then find someone to love you.
I'm sure now you're wondering
How I'm feeling, dying all alone.
I'm sorry to burst your bubble,
But it's better than being at home.
Having your pity would be far too much trouble.
And here's a quick fact for the road;
The cold hard truth is,
No matter where you are, out or at home,
You always, always die alone.
Now... I can't write much more,
I can't hardly see straight!
Here, I must to you implore
That you understand my fate.
I am not afraid, for death is not cruel.
I feel, in fact, as if I am caught in a cool embrace.
You may take me for the fool,
But you'll understand when it comes time for your Great Race.
Ah, it seems my time is near an end,
It's taken me an hour to get this far,
And I still don't know where to begin--
Oh how the flames of regret do char...
Either way; there's only one last thing
I must tell you before I go.
You remember that pretty little ring?
I would have said yes--but now I say no.
Leave me behind,
Find someone new!
Don't make me find,
A reason to save you.