## **Death of the Last Bagpipe** *Sad Scottish / Celtic funeral ballad style — heartfelt version with meta verses* **Verse 1** We were young when the road was wide, With foolish hearts and fire inside, We laughed so loud the stars would shake, Never thought those days could break. Brothers made by rain and flame, Different blood, but hearts the same, We drank the nights, we chased the dawn, And swore no friend would walk alone. **Meta Verse 1 — spoken softly** But the cruelest thing about growing old… Is not the grey upon your face. It’s the empty chair beside the fire, Where your brother used to take his place. It’s the joke you still remember, But he is not there to laugh. It’s the road you thought you’d walk together, Now split in half. **Pre-Chorus** But time moves quiet, time moves cruel, It steals the brave, it bends the fool, Miles grew long, and words grew few, But every silence carried you. **Chorus** So play the pipes for the ones who’ve gone, For the friends who couldn’t carry on, Raise no cheer, let the cold wind cry, For the old names written in the sky. One by one, we fade from sight, Like dying embers in the night, And when the last friend stands alone, He’ll blow the pipes… And call us home. --- **Verse 2** Some went north and some went west, Some found peace, some never rest, Some built homes with quiet hands, Some were buried in distant lands. And though the years pulled us apart, Each name stayed carved inside the heart, A photo worn, a message saved, A memory standing by a grave. **Meta Verse 2 — broken voice** There are names we do not say too loud, Because they still can break the chest. There are faces in the old photographs That time has never laid to rest. And sometimes in the quiet night, You hear them calling through the rain, Not as ghosts to haunt your heart, But as friends who still remain. **Pre-Chorus** The distance was far, but not the soul, The fire still burned, though faint and cold, And every scar that life would bring Held the ghost of everything. **Chorus** So play the pipes for the ones who’ve gone, For the friends who couldn’t carry on, Raise no cheer, let the cold wind cry, For the old names written in the sky. One by one, we fade from sight, Like dying embers in the night, And when the last friend stands alone, He’ll blow the pipes… And call us home. --- **Bridge** There’ll be no crowd, no loud goodbye, Just grey clouds hanging in the sky, A trembling hand, a weathered face, One last song in an empty place. He’ll see them there beyond the rain, Young again, without the pain, Laughing soft beyond the stone, Waiting for the last one home. **Meta Verse 3 — almost whispered** And he’ll remember every voice, Every promise, every mile, Every fight that turned to laughter, Every broken, stupid smile. He’ll remember who they were Before the world had made them old, Before the years became a graveyard, Before the fire turned cold. **Build-Up — slow and emotional** And the wind will hold its breathing, And the hills will bow their heads, For the last friend left among them Will be playing for the dead. Not for sorrow only, Not for pain alone, But for every soul he loved That never truly left him on his own. --- **Final Chorus** So play the pipes for the ones who’ve gone, For the brothers lost, but never gone, Let the hills weep, let the heavens cry, For true old friends do not die. One by one, we leave the light, But we meet again beyond the night, And when the last friend stands alone, He’ll close his eyes… He’ll lift the pipes… And call us home. --- **Final Meta Verse — tear voice** And when his final breath is fading, And his hands can play no more, He’ll hear the boots of old friends coming From beyond the misty moor. No man walks alone forever, No true bond is ever gone, For the pipes that cried in mourning Will become a welcome song. --- **Outro Chant** For the fallen… For the far away… For the words We never got to say… For the laughter… For the pain… For the friends We’ll meet again… One last breath… One last tone… The final friend… Will call us home.
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