Dying is the last line on the drawing
Did you fill in all the holes
Are there shadows of undone
And colors of rage and no fun

How has the brush touched the canvas
How smooth has the years melted together
The frame may be worn and rusted
Still might tell if you got beaten or hugged

The first line that is drawn is birth
Shown or hidden behind layers
It will surely shine through
And show the real you

The last line is death
Sharpen the pencil and dip the brush
When the ink is dry
You’ve earned your last breath

Is this the last line
That you’re drawing to me
Is this the last time
That you’re talking to me

Is this the last line
That you’re drawing to me
Is this the last time
That you’re talking to me

Can you tell how you came to that conclusion
Speechless, non-the less impressed

Can you tell how you came to that conclusion
Speechless, non-the less impressed

Is this the last line
That you’re drawing to me
Is this the last time
That you’re talking to me

Is this the last line
That you’re drawing to me
Is this the last time
That you’re talking to me

Is this the last line
That you’re drawing to me
Is this the last time
That you’re talking to me

Is this the last line
That you’re drawing to me
Is this the last time
That you’re talking to me