For the last time I look at the stars in my ceiling
For the last time I see them glow in the evening
For the last time I hear the nightingale sing
For the last time I hear the telephone ring

It’s my friend who want to know if I’m okay
I say "I think I’ll stay for one more day"
"So I’ll see you then in the morning!"
She doesn’t know, tomorrow is a day for mourning

Because I clearly hear the inner voice
Which tells me I don’t have a choice
I must go to where I should be
Up there together, God and me

I know, I’ll leave some mourning after
But I think that my death mostly will lead to laughter.