When I close my eyes for the last time,
I want to have lived, really lived. I want to know I've tasted the smorgasbord of life,
having relished the good and spat the bad back out,
knowing at least I tried it. When I'm done here, I don't want to wonder whether someone caught the kiss I threw, I’ll know. I don't want to leave this life with a heart as empty
as my pockets have always been. I want to know, without a doubt, I've left something of me behind, -- something that's good,
not regret, for never making a difference. When I close my eyes for the very last time, I would like someone to remember
... I was here