When is the hour, and who draws the line And when will we know that it's passed? That it stops being wrong, and it starts being fine For us to leave the world at last When a child becomes old, and their time runs out Or the youngest of hundred year olds Is there ever a due date beyond all our doubt When life can release its last hold? Is it all in the eyes of those left behind? But what if there's no one to leave? Or is it God's will, so eternally kind? But what if you've never believed? What does it matter, so long as your last breath Leaves your body as you die a most dignified death?