How to Die Properly

Don’t you dare die
All of a sudden
Without so much as
A backward glance
Don’t you know?
You’ve got to die
In a proper fashion

To die properly
You’ve got to
Call your lawyer
Write a will
Sort yourself out
Yes, that’s it
Good on you

To die properly
You’ve got to
Make the rounds
Repay your debts
Settle your scores
Ensure secrets
Stay secret
Pay them off
If you must

To die properly
You’ve got to
Go to confession
You’ve been bad
All your life
God doesn’t care
You’re good now
That’s all that matters

If you don’t die properly
You’ll lie
Shrunken, smelly and blue
Your lawyer will come, grim
Your creditors will come, annoyed
Your priest will come, hopeful
Your wife and kids will come, wailing

And your wife and kids
The ones in the back page obituary
Sitting in the front pew
Wailing too
Will faint
Dead away
And that, dear friend
That would be most improper