But let's talk about you for a minute With the vomit at your gullet From a half bottle of vodka that we'd stolen from the optic On the back seat of your car, because it wasn't safe to start it You were "far too f**ed to drive", were the words that you imparted And the woollen dress that clung so tight to the contours of your body And the dead gra** stuck to fibres from us rolling in the lay-by Were pa**ed to dog-haired blankets That protected the bench seat covers And a crucifix was hung from rear view mirror by your mother I'm leaving my body to science, not medical but physics Drag my corpse through the airport and lay me limp on the left wing Drop me at the highest point and trace a line around the dent I leave in the ground That'll be the initial of the one you'll marry now I'm not around I flew for seven hours, the sky didn't once turn black I wake from sleep, my head and shoulder, wet against the window A frost had formed and melted, soaked me right through to my collarbone If you were given the option of dying painlessly in peace at 45 But with a lover at your side, after a full and happy life Is this something that would interest you? Would this interest you at all?