You’re Like a Taxi - Showbread

When we die i bet they’ll haul a box into a pile of dirt

Nothing in it but a sack of bones and stuffy tie and shirt

As loved ones wish that we’d get up and moan «this isn’t fair!»

But you and me won’t be there…

Death, it doesn’t scare me thinking that you’re somewhere on your way

I can’t go on pretending i might never see the day

It’s not hard for me to picture but makes me feel out of place

I hope i’m not afraid when i see you face to face

To some you’re like a prison when they’ve yet to taste freedom

And maybe you feel bitter because Jesus broke your kingdom

Once you felt so powerful and power made you happy

But now you’re like a ferry boat

Now you’re like a taxi

When i die whatever you might say, don’t say i’m gone

Gone is not the word for someone who finally found his way back home

Gone is not the word for someone who finally found his way back home