Last breath

 She got married at four

A banquet was laid for her

The table was set

The wedding guests had arrived

There was nothing left to get

It was the day to be brave

The day not to be grave

As she stepped in she drew her last breath

For she was getting married to death

He was a difficult husband to be sure

But he never brought his work home with him

He always left his Scythe at the door

And the marital bed was laid

All the sheets had been set

The wedding cake had been made

The bridesmaids had placed their bets

The votive candles were burning late

Heaven's handles were on their gate

As I lay down on my bed I drew one last breath

For there lying next to this wife was her husband death

Sure he did the washing up

Though the rubber gloves were hard to get on and off

He always was a stickler for the rules

When I considered his profession I knew he was so professional

He liked the dishes so clean and he never used a dishwashing machine

When he held me in his arms, I knew then his boney charms

And he was handy with a hammer and nail, he could fix a cupboard door

or a coffin that came cheap in a sale, I even saw him on the roof

But the photograph could not be developed and so I had no proof

We used to holiday in the Canaries, he said he liked the climate there

The fire in the ground took the chill from his bones

And he loved to breath in the warm salty air

Sometimes though he always looked so alone

As if the weight of world he had to bear on his own

And I would always say dear a problem shared is a problem halved

and he would finish that sentence for me, at that we both laughed

So all in all Death was good husband he was

Of course all that changed when his brother life came to stay

He was the complete opposite, brought something else to the house

He was fat, he was jolly, like an elephant he was scared of a mouse

But he could be brave and bold as a lion and bellow his name down the valley

I started to wondered if he had a wife, I caught myself one day writing him a letter

Dear Life, I started, I have been thinking of you often, don't get me wrong

Death has been a good husband, but we have been married these some years past

And I begin to wonder if our marriage will last, or whether it is on its last legs

So to speak, I wonder because when I look at you, my knees grow weak

I want to swoon, I want to faint and fall in your arms, take the bull by the horns

Nevermind that the China shop gets harmed, I love you Life, won't you make me your lover

I want to climb out of death's bed and under life's covers, can you take me

Oh will you take me? Do. I will be your mistress I will leave death to his mysteries

He doesn't seem to have a clue! Let's elope, we'll go to Spain

And go live in the Spanish hills, you know for your love I feel such pain

For our love life, Life, you know Death I'd kill for you; I'd slip him the knife, hid under my pillow,

Between his ribs and pierce his cold, cold heart, it would be a piece of art

It beats so old and regular it never misses a beat, it never skips

I never see him jump like you do, nor take to the floor in a dance

Like you do, and he only once swept me off my feet

So come, take my hand life and we'll go dancing down the street