Ashley’s returned to ashes,
Betsy has ceased to be,
Misty is musty,
Dustin is dusty,
but there’s nothing afflicting me.

Cameron’s turning to compost,
Stella’s forever still,
Freddie is frigid,
Roger is rigid,
but I’m barely over the hill.

Cora is clearly a corpse,
Peter has petered out,
Gail’s just a ghost,
Tommy is toast,
but I’m still out and about.

Stanley’s as stiff as a board,
Pat’s in a box of pine,
Grant’s in the ground,
Drew tragically drowned,
but I’m still here and I’m fine.

Fergie is growing fungi,
Ruth has been laid to rest,
Milly’s got mould,
Colin’s stone cold,
but I’m still looking my best.

Rita is slowly rotting,
Walter’s widowed his wife,
Billy’s been buried,
Hank hari karied,
but I still go on with my life.

My family’s predeceased me,
They’ve all gone on ahead,
Uncles and sisters,
Misses and misters,
I’m the only one not dead.

You might think I’d be lonely,
Or sad from watching them go,
Instead I drink up
and pour one more cup
of my elixir of life; Merlot.

Red wine is a life prolonger,
It’s proven in studies galore,
Open a bottle,
Drink it full throttle,
And live ‘til you’re ninety or more.

My family was always sober,
Teatotallers down to the last,
Wine and whiskey
were considered risky,
Water was drunk with repast.

So how did I start drinking?
I was lucky for goodness sakes,
With all their dying,
mourning and crying,
I attended a hundred wakes!

And when Death crashes my party,
I’ll open up some fine wine,
Toast those who’ve passed,
And join them at last,
I’m the end of a long,
long,
line.