I would like to tie up all my loose ends – whatever they may be – and to wreak revenge on all of the people that I still need to wreak revenge on. It’s not very nice I know, but it’s my last day so I can do what I want! Revenge is a dish best served cold so it can sometimes take on a physical form, but I’ll see how the mood takes me..

I’m like a teenager in that I always leave a trail of stuff behind me, whether it’s empty teacups or records not put back in their sleeves – just stuff in piles everywhere that never gets dealt with. So I reckon I’d have a massive tidy-up. I’d do all the DIY stuff that I’ve been promising to do for the last couple of years – I’d put the shelf back up in the bedroom, fill the hole in the wall in the landing, and I might mow the lawn if the weather’s alright… Basically all the stuff that annoys my wife I’d deal with, so I can make sure my legacy wasn’t a load of mess and unfinished jobs. Oh, and I’d take some prawns out of the freezer as well.

I’ll have to write the greatest song I’ve ever written. You know, every day I get up, I live most days like they’re my last. I wake up with a kind of fear in my belly, with a feeling like, ‘This is it – go for it.’ So in many respects, it won’t be that much different from any other day. Knowing my luck, if I knew it was going to be my last day I’d make an elaborate arrangement. But something always goes wrong – like the gas boiler would explode. I’m not very good at making plans, so I live every day as if it’s my last. But I’d have to write a great song.

The rest of that night is a feverish blur. I asked to talk to my mom; had a slice of chocolate cake; prayed. I remember waking up every few hours and seeing my mother praying by my bedside, then every nurse in the hospital, and then every cleaning staff member who loved my father for his kindness toward them throughout the years — all praying for me.