Last Words?

The kid and I had a conversation about death and last words.

I was trying to keep the sound of a Tom Waits piano out of my head but damn that stuff is good.

We laughed about foolish finishes and secretly envied the men we thought to be wise.

I raced around the idea of a deathbed or a firing squad. (Preferring the latter)

What would my last words be?

Nevermind; Beethoven already beat me to it.

The kid and I were thinking about death and last words.

I was trying to keep from slurring and Tommy wouldn’t shut up. (Not that I would ever ask him to)

The kid stopped talking and I got distracted with my internal monologue. (right on the nose of a narcissist’s pocket-watch)

“Death isn’t as exciting as what leads up to it.”

Fuck my last words. What am I saying now?

I would tell you but I slurred them and forgot.