You're Like a Taxi

When we die i bet they'll haul a box into a pile of dirt

nothing in it but a sack of bones

and stuffy tie and shirt

as loved ones wish that we'd get up

and moan "this isn't fair!"

but you and me won't be there.

When i die, whatever you might say,

don't say i'm gone

gone is not the word for someone who finally found his way back home

gone is not the word for someone who finally found his way back home

Gone is not the word for someone who finally found his way back home

Gone is not the word for someone who finally found his way back home

Death, it doesn't scare me thinking that you're somewhere on your way

I can't go on pretending i might never see the day

it's not hard for me to picture

but makes me feel out of place

I hope i'm not afraid when i see you face to face

To some you're like a prison

When they've yet to taste freedom

and maybe you feel bitter

Because Jesus broke your kingdom

Once you were so powerful

and power made you happy

but now you're like a ferry boat

now you're like a taxi

when i die, whatever you might say

don't say i'm gone

gone is not the word for someone who finally found his way back home

gone is not the word for someone who finally found his way back home

gone is not the word for someone who finally found his way back home

gone is not the word for someone who finally found his way back home

gone is not the word for someone who finally found his way back home