“Look up here, I’m in heaven, I’ve got scars that can’t be seen,” sings David Bowie in “Lazarus”, his voice just as deep, lilting and meaningful as his earliest innovations. “I’ve got drama, can’t be stolen, everybody knows me now,” he continues over the rolling drumbeats and dark, lulling bass line.

Released just one month before the music icon passed away this morning, and right before the release of his final album Blackstar, the lyrics take on a particularly profound, and heart-wrenching meaning. Forever ten steps ahead of everybody else, Bowie’s latest single plays like a final goodbye, which is both devastatingly bleak and characteristically fearless.

The video, which was released just four days ago, features Bowie blindfolded and stuck to a bed, right before another Bowie (who is dressed in black) dances beside him. Watching the beautifully symbolic clip now, it’s hard not to ask yourself: How did I not know? How did we all miss something that was in such clear view? But it was easy to think of Bowie as so otherworldly that he would be everlasting – which in many ways he is, of course. Considering the track’s name “Lazarus” (a character who, in the bible, was resurrected from the dead), it’s a notion that may have crossed Bowie’s mind also. 

“People approaching the end of life will often hang on longer to experience a special event that is important to them,” Dr Ros Taylor MBE, Clinical Director at Hospice UK, explained to Dazed. “People can live for days, or even weeks beyond a doctor’s predictions about when they are likely to die. It is fairly common and highlights the powerful link between mind and body and the positive, psychological impact of personal life events on physical health.” To that end, it seems that Bowie’s death was treated in much the same way as his life – a perfectly shaped work of art. It’s a sentiment expressed by Tony Visconti, Bowie’s producer, who also commented: “He made Blackstar for us, his parting gift. I knew for a year this was the way it would be. I wasn't, however, prepared for it.”

As “Lazarus” draws to a close amidst a flurry of chaotic, drama-filled horn patterns, Bowie’s final words soar through clear and strong: “Oh I’ll be free, just like that bluebird, oh I’ll be free, ain’t that just like me?”