My Death

My death is like
 a swinging door
 a patient girl who knows the score
 whistle for her
 and the passing time
 My death waits like
 a bible truth
 at the funeral of my youth
 weep loud for that
 and the passing time
 My death waits like
 a witch at night
 and surely as our love is bright
 let's laugh for us
 and the passing time
 But whatever is behind the door
 there is nothing much to do
 angel or devil I don't care
 for in front of that door
 there is you
 My death waits like
 a beggar blind
 who sees the world with an unlit mind
 throw him a dime
 for the passing time
 My death waits
 to allow my friends
 a few good times before it ends
 let's drink to that
 and the passing time
 My death waits in
 your arms, your thighs
 your cool fingers will close my eyes
 let's not talk about
 the passing time
 But whatever is behind the door
 there is nothing much to do
 angel or devil I don't care
 for in front of that door
 there is you
 My death waits
 among the falling leaves
 in magicians, mysterious sleeves
 rabbits, dogs
 and the passing times
 My death waits
 among the flowers
 where the blackish shadow cowers
 let's pick lilacs
 for the passing time
 My death waits in
 a double bed
 sails of oblivion at my head
 pull up the sheets
 against the passing time
 But whatever is behind the door
 there is nothing much to do
 angel or devil I don't care
 for in front of that door
 there is you