When my ear drum's in need of tuning

And all the bones have turned to dust

Will I still see Styx when I'm dreaming?

Will I still hear you call me Buss?

No, I don't think there's a God above me

Or else I must've made him mad

Because he takes everything I think is lovely

And smashes them all in his hand

When my body is full of cancer

From all the sunshine and the drugs

Will you still be my clumsy dancer

Take my hand, and be my love?