I want words at my funeral. But I guess that means you need life in your life.

The speaker expresses a desire not merely for ceremonial speech after death (“words at my funeral”), but for language that has been earned by a fully lived life. The second sentence pivots from a request to a recognition: meaningful eulogy is only possible if there is “life in your life”—i.e., if one’s days contain vitality, risk, feeling, and story. The line suggests that words are not substitutes for living; they are the residue of it. It also hints at the moral economy of remembrance: what others can truthfully say about you depends on how intensely and authentically you have inhabited your time.