[Minimalistic trip-hop downtempo. Female contralto. Unhurried, intimate, heartfelt, softly epic. Mostly sung, occasionally half-spoken, understated delivery. Soft piano, bowed cello, deep sub-bass, brushed drums entering late. Space between phrases. Near-silence in the breakdown. Restrained cello swell into the outro.] [Verse 1 — piano and voice only, no drums] How are you these days as we get closer to the grave? No—there’ll be no grave. I’d rather be cremated. Coffins are too much trouble. Burn all this physical stuff— flesh and blood, bones and guts. [Verse 2 — sub-bass and brushed kit enter, very low in the mix] A box is too… you know. Please, no ceremony. Leave as simply as we can. Go quietly. I’d rather folks showed up to wish us bon voyage wherever we’re going. [Chorus — cello doubles the vocal line, slight lift, still restrained] If there ever was a plan, I just wanna have fun man. That’s it. That is all. [Bridge — drums out, single sustained cello drone under the spoken lines] Where was I? Where are we? The air conditioner hums. The days are warm still. My left brain has a headache. Trying to talk to you— my old, evolving soul. Or is that you whispering to me? [Verse 3 — piano alone, sparse, one note at a time] Sometimes I think you talk to me all the time, but this human clump, from long habit, isn’t good at listening. [Chorus — full but held back, cello and sub-bass only under the voice] Why worry about the end? There’s no such thing. I just wanna have fun man. That’s it. That is all. [Breakdown — voice and room tone only, almost dry] So how are we these days? You know. I don’t. [Outro — cello swell, then piano fades to near silence, last note left ringing] Quite all right, really. What counts is we’re together. The long adventure just ahead. No— we’re on it this very now. This very, very now. —————- Lyrics © Mario Caoile
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