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When I die
Give What's Left of me away
To Children
And to old men that wait to die.
And if you need to cry,
Cry for your brother
Walking down the street beside you.
When you need me,
Put your arms around anyone
And give them
What you would give me.
I want to leave you something,
Something better,
Than words or sounds.
Look for me
In the people I've known
Or loved,
And if you cannot give me away,
At least let me live on in your eyes
And not in your mind.
You can love me the most
By letting
Hands touch hands,
By letting
Bodies touch bodies,
And by letting go of children
That need to be free.
Love doesn't die,
People do.
So, when all that's left of me
Is love,
Give me away.
The Answer...
My abusive excess created this stress
It allowed me to stay in one constant mess.
That was my thinking, the cause of my drinking,
I just couldn't explain the way that I act,
And my obvious, and terrible, complete lack of tact.
"I am an alcoholic!" Do you suppose?
I'd rather die, than be one of those.
But at the meetings there were people galore,
A doctor, a lawyer, a priest, and a nurse.
To make matters worse, there was my neighbor next door.
I reached out for help, and saw them all nod.
I wanted a miracle!
And this was so odd,
As I felt my hand in the strong hand of God.
A real freind.
