Here's the one I wrote for Merritt, in response to his changing the last verse of "Who Will Sing For Me?".
He wrote:
"When you're singing for your friends,
Who's lives on earth are through,
They'll be gathered up above,
Where they're singing songs for you."

And I wrote this one for him after he died:

THE UNCLAIMED PINT
(Barbara Millikan, copyright 2004)

Eight pints around the table,
Seven singers raise a glass,
As we toast the days that come no more;
But the single chair is vacant
And the sorrow's in our eyes;
Tonight we sing for one who's gone before.

CHORUS:
Raise your voices, raise your glasses,
Sing your sorrows and your joys,
We will sing until they throw us out the door;
For the unclaimed pint is standing
At his empty place,
No, he won't be singing with us anymore.


Many long nights we have lingered
'Round our table at the pub,
And time and trials have bound us to each other;
Wings of songs we sang together
Carry him across,
Where their echoes ring forevermore.

(CHORUS)

Yet sometimes in the silence
From one verse to the next,
We can almost hear soft laughter there once more
And the echo of his voice is ringing
In the final chord --
Tonight he's singing on the other shore.

LAST CHORUS:
Raise your voices, raise your glasses
Sing your sorrows and your joys
We will sing until they throw us out the door
For the unclaimed pint is standing
At his empty place
No, he won't be singing with us anymore
Now he's singing on the other shore.