What a day you had - told you were clear of cancer,
now there was no need to treat God with rancour,
there was purpose to life again, no more pain,
well, not so much to go, wonderful, bedtime Mo.
What would you do - told limited time to live,
not fair, when you still have so much to give,
I thought we'd make love, travel to the stars,
the time just went, with the flow, bedtime Mo.
There was the seat where we sat, looking at the sea,
a plaque which read: 'Hope that you have better luck than me,'
what luck to be told that you can live after all,
born again and cheated death or so, bedtime Mo.
I'll never moan again, eat all my 'greens' with joy,
cherish everything, not dismiss like a discarded toy.