My Whill

My will; hold me, tell my mother I never knew
Just how to tell her I love her
All the lonely little people, and all the ways things could go wrong
Recall, rejoice, repent, relapse

In the end we'll all be grasped by the hand that connects us all
I love, and care, and miss and will miss and will miss and will miss you
Everyday, a little more dead inside than before
Everyday, a little more dead inside than before

My will; hold me, tell my mother I never knew
Just how to tell her I love her
My will; tell me I did well
My will; inform me if you go to the funeral
My will; my records go to you, and you and you
My will; is to never let me down
My will; will you be there until the bitter end?



Credits
Writer(s): Johnny Boyle
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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