My Death - Live at the Shakespeare Festival, New York, 18th September, 1995

Um, the second song, uh, in fact, last time I did it in New York was in 1973

Yeah, that's right. Um, it's by Jacques Brel

I've done this thing as a march, tango, waltz, uh, bossa nova

Tonight I'll just do it with piano. It's called, uh, "My Death"

When you're ready

My death waits like an old roué

So confident I'll go his way

Whistle to him and the passing time

My death waits there, like a Bible truth

At the funeral of my youth

Weep loud 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 this world through an unlit mind

Throw him a dime for the passing time

My death waits there to allow, my friends

A few good times before it ends

Yeah, let's drink to that and the passing time

My death waits there, between your thighs

Your cool fingers will close my eyes

Oh, let's not think about the passing time

But whatever lies behind the door

There is nothing we can 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, dogs, and the passing time

My death waits there, among the flowers

Where the blackest shadow cowers

We'll pick lilacs for this passing time

My death waits there, in our double bed

Sails of oblivion at my head

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 you

Mike Garson

Thank you very much, good night