My Death lyrics - David Bowie

(Live 1973 Version)

(originally by Jacques Brel)

My death waits like an old roué

So confident I'll go his way

Whistle to him and the passing time

My death waits like a bible truth

At the funeral of my youth

Oh, we bowed for that and the passing time

My death waits like a witch at night

As surely as our love is bright

Let's not think about the passing time

But whatever lies behind the door

There is nothing much to do

Angel or devil, I don't care

For, in front of that door

There is you

My death waits like a beggar blind

Who sees the world through an unlit mind

Throw him a dime for the passing time

My death waits there between your thighs

Your cool fingers will close my eyes

Let's think of that and the passing time

My death waits to allow my friends

A few good times before it ends

So let's drink to that and the passing time

But whatever lies behind the door

There is nothing much to do

Angel or devil, I don't care

For, in front of that door

There is you

My death waits there, among the leaves

In magician's mysterious sleeves

Rabbits and dogs and the passing time

My death waits there among the flowers

Where the blackest shadow, the blackest shadow cowers

Let's pick lilacs for the passing time

My death waits there, in a double bed

Sails of oblivion at my head

So pull up the sheets against the passing time

But whatever lies behind the door

There is nothing much to do

Angel or devil, I don't care

For, in front of that door there is

Thank you