I can smell the death on the sheets
covering me.
I can't believe this is the end. But this is my deathbed. I lie here alone.
If I close my eyes tonight, I know I'll be Home. The year was nineteen fourty-one.
I was eight years old and far, far too young
to know that the stories
of battle and glory
was a tale a kind mother made up for her son. You see, dad was a traveling preacher,
teaching the Words of the Teacher.
But mother had sworn
he went off to the war
and died there with honor somewhere on the beach there But he left once to never return.
Which taught me that I should un-learn
whatever I thought
a father should be.
I abandoned that thought like he abandoned me By '47 I was fourteen.
I'd acquired a taste for liquor and nicotine.
I smoked until I threw up,
yet I still lit 'em up
for thirty more years like a machine. So, right there you have it.
That one filthy habit
is what got me where I am today. I can smell the death on the sheets
covering me.
I can't believe this is the end. I can hear those sad memories
still haunting me.
So many things I'd do again. But this is my deathbed. I lie here alone.
If I close my eyes tonight, I know I'll be Home. Got married on my twenty-first
(Eight months before my wife would give birth).
It's easier to be sure you love someone
when her father inquires with the barrel of a gun. The union was far from harmonious.
No two people could have been more alone than us.
The years would go by and she'd love someone else.
And I'd realized I hadn't been loved yet myself. From there its your typical spiel.
Yeah, if life was a highway, I was drunk at the wheel.
I was helping the lose ends all fall apart.
Yeah, I swear I was destined to fail and fail from the start. I bowled about six times a week.
The bottle of Beam kept the memories from me.
Out marriage had taken a seven-ten split,
and, along with my pride, the ex-wife took the kids. I can smell the death on the sheets
covering me.
I can't believe this is the end. I can hear those sad memories
still haunting me.
So many things I'd do again. But this is my deathbed. I lie here alone.
If I close my eyes tonight, I know I'll be Home. I was so scared of Jesus, but He sought me out
like the cancer in my lungs that is killing me now.
And I've given up hope on the days I have left,
but I cling to the hope of my life in the next. Then Jesus showed up, said, "Before we go up,
I thought that we might reminisce.
See, one night in your life when you turned out the lights
you asked for and prayed for my forgiveness. "You cried, wolf.
The tears they soaked your fur.
The blood dripped from your fangs.
You said, 'What have I done?' "You loved that Lamb
with every sinful bone.
And there you wept alone.
Your heart was so contrite. "You said, 'Jesus, please forgive me of my crimes.
Sanctify this withered heart of mine.
Stay with me until my life is through.
And on that day, please take me Home with You.'" I can smell the death on the sheets
covering me.
I can't believe this is the end. I can hear You whisper to me,
"It's time to leave.
You'll never be lonely again." But this was my deathbed. I died there alone.
When I closed my eyes tonight, You carried me Home. "I Am the Way. Follow Me and take My hand.
And I Am the Truth. Embrace Me and you'll understand.
I Am the Life. And through Me you'll live again.
I Am Love. I Am Love. I Am Love." -Deathbed, by Relient K ft/Jon Foreman of Switchfoot. From: 
In stores March 6. | 
