It’s just a choice of what we want to lose
The moon hangs in the cold crisp air all night

To wash me and my pain in gentle light
My bro’s harp wraps my soul in smoky blues

Without some nurse’s orders I sip booze
And smoke fine weed and cigs to my delight
It’s all a choice of what we need to lose
The moon shines in the cold crisp air all night

Sure there’s a hospice bed for me to use
A room that’s sweet and warm where sheets are white
With morphine for my pain. But I’ll sit tight
To seek and check out with the drugs I choose
It’s all a choice of how we want to lose