Nothing matters to the dead.
There are no books left to be read.
No more lessons to be learned,
No more monies to be earned,
And no more apologies to be said.
Nothing matters once you die.
No more me, myself, and I.
No more dinners to be cooked,
No more promises overlooked,
And no more sorrows left to cry.
"All old things will pass away,"
A man once told me that the Bible does say.
But as he offered me the book,
I shyly grinned; my head I shook.
I thanked him kindly, but plainly said,
"Nothing matters to the dead."