Singing Hymns For My Own Funeral (I’m not dying I was just in a gothic mood)

Today I recorded some hymns, SATB,

For my own funeral, lest no one should attend.

Of course it was a rather ragged, barber shop affair,

Since I myself sang all the different parts 

And I couldn’t sing the mens’ all an octave lower.

I recorded it on an app I’d downloaded.

Today I whipped myself up into madness

And ended in tears and sadness

When the pent up frustration exploded.

I once thought life couldn’t get any slower,

Now it speeds up and drags in fits and starts,

I make myself laugh out loud and weep, in despair.

But mood waves and sound waves combined in the end

Into a hymn of Him who died, for me.