A fine Daytona afternoon,
the season just begun.
and I was having fun.
I probably could have won the thing,
but something held me back.
I was busy watching Dale and Mike --
and holding off the pack.
I was looking toward the front
and not really to the rear.
Something tapped me on my bumper,
but still I had no fear.
I thought it might be Sterling -
I knew he was nearby.
When Sterling smells the checkered flag,
I'll tell you, he ain't shy.
I slipped a bit.
I turned the wheel.
I sensed something very odd.
It wasn't Sterling's tap I'd felt.
It was the tap of God.
"Not now," I said. "I'm racing hard.
There's work still here to do."
"You're time is up," He whispered low,
"So say a quick adieu."
I wasn't really ready,
but I didn't have a choice.
He'd tapped me on the bumper
and I'd heard His hallowed voice.
So I did as He instructed.
I just packed it in and left.
I guess it can't be helped that
I left some of you bereft.
Did you see those birds upon
the wall as they scattered in the breeze?
Will it make it any easier to
know that one of them was me?
There was also Davey, Dad and Neil
and some other guys I've known.
And they all came to Daytona just
to escort me on home.
Hey - congratulations, Mikey!
You made a worthy run.
I wish you many, many more.
You're wins have just begun.
All that fun you had in Victory Lane,
I was proud as proud can be.
Did you see a seagull flying low?
Yeah, Mikey, that was me.
So, friends and fans and family,
don't mourn me for too long.
Get on with life -
take care of things -
be brave and proud and strong
I'll surely miss you every one.
About that I will not lie.
But as long as you remember me -
I didn't really die
A thrill was in the air that day
As the number three flashed past
Shouts and cheers rose on the wind
As his car sped by so fast.
The race had been so thrilling
The finish line just ahead
The thought did not occur to us
We'd see tragedy instead.
The final lap came all to soon
For a hero we held dear
Little did we know that day
That the end for him was near.
Our hearts are filled with sadness
Our hero had to leave
To race across the Heavens now
While we are left to grieve.
The gates of Heaven opened
His final trophy gleaming bright
He slowly gunned his engine
As he drove into the light.
(charlotte anselmo)