And now, the end is near,
And so I face the final curtain.
My friends, I'll say it clear;
I'll state my case of which I'm certain.
I've lived a life that's full - I've travelled each and every highway.
And more, much more than this, I did it my way.
Regrets? I've had a few,
But then again, too few to mention.
I did what I had to do
And saw it through without exemption.
I planned each charted course -
Each careful step along the byway,
And more, much more than this,
I did it my way.
Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew,
When I bit off more than I could chew,
But through it all, when there was doubt,
I ate it up and spit it out.
I faced it all and I stood tall
And did it my way.
I've loved, I've laughed and cried,
I've had my fill - my share of losing.
But now, as tears subside,
I find it all so amusing.
To think I did all that,
And may I say, not in a shy way -
Oh no. Oh no, not me.
I did it my way.
For what is a man? What has he got?
If not himself - Then he has naught.
To say the things he truly feels
And not the words of one who kneels.
The record shows I took the blows and did it my way.
Yes, it was my way.
David Bowie was asked to write the English version of the French song that eventually became Frank Sinatra's "My Way". The job eventually went to Paul Anka. David Bowie, in *his* words was pretty pissed off and decided to write his own song called "My Way On Mars"... four years later, Bowie wrote "Life on Mars".
