What's it take for my spirit to break?
My friends to flake? A foreign fork in my cake?
Oh, for heaven's sake, I've much bigger plans to make.
Cause at my wake I'll be standing up straight, eyes still open like I'm wide awake. Cause I'll die standing up.

What's the color of my aura?
The color of the fire that burnt Sodom and Ghommorah?
Is it a hellish hue of high horror?
Or a menagerie of spring true and pure?
Is my aura a color you can see?
Do I radiate white hot intensity?
Or is it the faint glow of the meek?
For those who tread gentle are not weak.

Tree stands long after it has died.
Then cut down becomes food for fire.
Now a pillar of smoke in the sky, embers rain down on high.
And in this way the tree still stands as it dies.

Where is my aura on the rainbow?
Or does its shade lie below?
A color so dark only the blind know?
So deep a prism wouldn't dare to show?
Feel my aura's essence.
Lose consciousness in its presence.
The highs of intense benevolence.
Take it in with every sense.

Man dies with no grace or dignity.
Hides death beneath cemetery.
Still it clings to life, covets distant memories.
But spirit can't stand firm coddling a limp body.

What's it take for life to cease?
For blood to freeze? For a heart to skip beats?
Fatal disease? Sinking to the bottom of the sea?
Oh Please! Don't let that put you on your knees.
Don't let them bury you underneath their feet.
Make them put you up high for the world to see.
Die Standing up, and for Heaven's sake don't live lying down.

In the cemetery that holds me
all the skeletons will rise in courtesy.
No ill-mannered cadavers in my company,
they delay their decay for a day for my ceremony.
The weight of their blood and flesh dissolved,
all quandaries of their beating brains solved,
the sins of confining genders absolved!
Be not afraid, look not appalled...
For no mortal eye allowed to see em'
as they dance freely in the mausoleum.

Stand tall with me beautiful limestone skeletons.
Let the sun's light reflect off you and burn the malicious glares from their eyes.
Your divine design fit to house your soul before it's surrendered to the soil.
But for now let it illuminate your hollow skull and project light across the River Styx, like a lighthouse guiding lost souls.
Bring them into your temple of marrow so in this cyclical moment of death we all DIE STANDING UP