[Intro — Beat Returns, Death Narrating] So, this guy— Call him Bob. To protect his P.I.I. A good kid from the city Who happened to catch my eye. I was making rounds, Identifying souls That were added to the list, Where every ending’s entered So that no one can be missed. My eyes ran down the writing That appeared upon my book, And for the first time in my long existence— I took a second look. [Beat] “Killed by meteor.” [Spoken] Huh. That’s new. [Verse 1 — Playful Theatrical Rap] I’ve recorded wars and wreckage, Every plague and every pox, Every poorly placed banana peel And badly wired box. I’ve seen drownings, falls and fires, Freak disasters by the score, But a meteor? Specific. Hadn’t gotten that before. So I looked from book to Bob And thought, “Well, good luck with that.” Then went back about my business— I’m a busy bureaucrat. But the manner of his ending Isn’t why we’re gathered here, Nor the date beside the entry— Some considerable number of years. [Stops] Ah. Privacy. I’ve said enough. Let’s leave his age at ten. Because something happened Christmas Eve I’d never seen till then. [Music Pulls Back] Snow was falling on the city. I was standing in the street. Book in hand, I watched young Bob Go trudging through the sleet. And as I looked upon the boy— The boy looked back at me. [Beat] That doesn’t happen. Ever. [Verse 2 — Building] He saw the cloak. He saw the bones. He saw me standing in the snow. And on that Christmas Eve He learned what no one else could know. He saw the writing in the book. He read his name and fate. He saw the cause. He saw the hour. And— Most importantly— The date. [Beat Builds] Now kings have begged, And soldiers wept When finally shown the door. The rich have offered fortunes. The faithful prayed for more. I’ve watched the old accept me. I’ve watched the young protest. But never had a living child Been handed such a test. For any man who knew the things That I know would feel the weight— To know the how, To know the hour, To know the moment fate awaits. And Bob was ten. Ten years on Earth. A child who now could see The final page, The final line, Of his own biography. [Music Drops Low] I expected tears. I expected dread. I expected all the questions That run screaming through your head. I expected “Why?” I expected “How?” I expected “Why me?” But Bob just stared at that date... Then stared back at me. [Pause] Then back down at the date. [Longer Pause] Then back at me. [Death, Spoken] And started doing math. [Music Begins Building] And thus I made a choice that night No Reaper ought to make: If this boy could stare at Death, Then I would follow in his wake. I would witness every triumph, Every folly, every strife, To see what someone does When shown the boundary of his life. For I knew the final chapter. I knew how his tale would close. I knew the hour. I knew the day. I knew what Bob now knows. [Final Build] But neither Death nor destiny Could tell me there and then— What knowing how your story ends Might make you do Before The end. [Beat]
