Free Bird for me.
If I achieve anything sufficiently badass with my life - enough that my funeral take place in the National Cathedral, with heads of state and whatnot - then Mozart’s Requiem Mass would be cool. 
Failing that, Voltaire’s “God Thinks” would be fun.
Dark Side of the Moon, by Pink Floyd.
You can’t change the life you have had up until this minute … but from every moment going forward what your life is or is not is entirely up to you.
I think I’d like Fairport Convention’s “Meet on the Ledge”.
I feel a whole lot less weird now. I’m going to DJ my wake. I’ve started putting together the play list and I’m going to lay down the first couple of vocal tracks here in the next year. I figure every couple of years I’ll keep adding to it until I die and have a great sound track for the wake.
Oh, I fully realize that little fact. Just enough to make me choke, in a dozen little ways, every day.
You see, if you’re right, and you surely are, then your entire goddam life is on the line all the time, in everything you do. Never a moment’s peace, just endless performance anxiety.
I’ve been telling everyone for years that I want Talking Heads’ “Heaven” played at my funeral. Somebody damn well better remember.
Win!
Just one song?
“I Feel Good” by James Brown. That would be appropriate given my sense of humor and when I die I for damn sure do not want there to be a room full of people sitting there miserable. I want a party where people can remember me with laughter.
Whipping Post, by the Allman Brothers, followed by Ripple/Brokedown Palace by the Dead.
Then one hell of a wake, with a live band and jam session.
I’d love to see the looks on their faces when that first note slides in. You’ve given me a reason to fake my own death – well, another reason.
“Joyful, Joyful we adore thee” esp the fourth verse:
Mortals, join the happy chorus,
Which the morning stars began;
Father love is reigning over us,
Brother love binds man to man.
Ever singing, march we onward,
Victors in the midst of strife,
Joyful music leads us Sunward
In the triumph song of life.
I don’t want a funeral.
I want to be cremated and have my ashes spread over my favourite haunts.
I want people to have a party in my honour. I want them to drink, tell stories, about me, laugh, and have a good time. I’m 46. When I die I hope to be 76, or 86, but even if I get hit by a bus tomorrow I want people to drink, laugh, and enjoy themselves.
My dad died two years ago. This is exactly what we did. I wouldn’t have it any other way now.
Dust in the wind,
All we are is dust in the wind…
–Kansas
“Always Look on the Bright Side of Life” from Life of Brian.
Followed by selected readings from the Havamal, and the torching of my body with all its wordly possessions. And lots of drinking.