Here's Yma Sumac, singing from the Mayan Temple.
By the time you read this, I may be dead. We may all be dead. The world is about to end, or so the soothsayers say.
It's been a good life. 58 years of love (82 years according to some, man-to-man love only according to others). I'm going to be sorry to be leaving, but at least everyone else will be leaving too. It would have been nice to have seen others leave before me, to open the gates of Hell ready for my arrival. But I have been assured not to worry. There will be so many people waiting to be chucked on to the fire--the homophobes, the hashtag loonies, Michael Thornton, the Hollywood Hags and whoever killed Kimmy, my father and my old mate Pete Sutcliffe--that none of we formerly decent folk will be able to get near to it. Who knows, I may stay down there just long enough to make sure I've seen them turned to a crisp.
So long, folks...it's been nice knowing you!