I'll make many friends,
And in my own small way,
I might change the world,
Just a little day by day,
Maybe I'll be famous,
Outrageous yet caring star,
Maybe I'll own property,
Have money and fast cars.
Maybe I'll become a nurse,
Rest the dead and heal the living,
A midwife tending to the babes,
That could be the gift I'm giving.
And then when I get older,
Grandchildren: Girls and boys,
I'll teach them all lifes mysteries,
Then buy them pleasing toys.
Someone could comfort me,
On my last dieing day,
Surrounded by grieving relatives,
Until in the mortuary I lay.
But when my life has come to an end,
Who really is an honest friend?
And maybe all my dreams will shatter,
And I'll convince myself it doesn't matter,
I'll have a job that I dislike,
And never be that charming wife,
But either way, in the end,
My time on earth was only lent,
And when I'm burried all alone,
My only trace will be a stone,
The headstone that marks my grave,
Above my dank and deathly cave,
And in one hundred years,
When no one really cares,
They'll clear away my silent hall,
And in its place they'll build a mall.
