Story Behind The Song
This song was inspired by days spent working at a newspaper where part of the job was handling paid obituaries. Having dealt with countless examples, there was a thought "I wonder how my obituary would read?". The lyrics of the song are all examples of close-call or near-death occurrences...basically the concept is the writer is already dead, writing his own obituary or chronicling what could have been his demise.
Song Description
(see story behind the song)
| Song Length |
5:45 |
Genre |
Rock - Americana, Rock - Hard Rock |
| Tempo |
Medium Fast (131 - 150) |
Mood |
Frantic, Jovial |
| Subject |
Life, Existence |
Similar Artists |
The Decemberists, Old 97's |
| Era |
2000 and later |
| |
Lyrics
A ghost I know he wrote his obit for himself
He told the story of his death like he could only tell
He wrote about a crashing car distracted driver's hell
Playing with the stereo and drinking at the wheel
He wrote about his scraped up face against the pool
How inches too deep must have paralyzed the drunken fool
A ghost I know wrote down his own obit
A ghost composed his own epitaph
A journal entry detailed haste crossing the street
His body pressed upon a van and pounded into meat
His scribbled down in pen of his off-roading episode
The gravel path had flipped the jeep careening off the road
He documented how a wave collapsed his vein
How pent up clotted blood broke off and shot into his brain
A ghost I know wrote down his own obit
A ghost composed his own epitaph
He asked politely could you touch me 'cause I might be dreaming
With everything I've seen I'm pretty sure I am not breathing
He asked politely could you touch me 'cause I might be dreaming
With everything I've seen I'm pretty sure I am not breathing
He typed a tale of his collision with a tree
Scudding down a snow-laced hill his neck broke easily
He took a tour around his final resting place
Than asked in lieu of burial if he could float in space
A ghost I know he wrote his obit for himself
He told the story of his death like he could only tell
A ghost I know wrote down his own obit
A ghost composed his own epitaph
He asked politely could you touch me 'cause I might be dreaming
With everything I've seen I'm pretty sure I am not breathing
He asked politely could you touch me 'cause I might be dreaming
With everything I've seen I'm pretty sure I am not breathing
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