But who knows, I'm anything but definitive or stable.
Meanwhile, here's today's downer. Have hope! it may be the last. hee hee
of all diseases, there is none so cruel
yet none more fair, than old age
it forces us to find a sense of humour
we do not possess
and apply it to something
anything but funny
the only cure is to rob it
by catching a train
bound for a gorge short a trestle
apparently, God finds it funny
for He gave us ears and a nose
that never stops growing
while everything else shrinks
pretty funny eh?
the man who stormed Normandy
now looks like the empty shell
he bled into on his way here
he shakes as she ties his shoes
wipes his chin, reminds him
where the bathroom is
back in that little ballroom in'49
she laughed,
like jesse james blowin a vault,
while her skirt swirled, twirled and fairly flew
and the young boy felt so damn lucky
just to hold her hand through the ride
that skirt is long gone, the boy too,
and besides, it's hard to twirl
with a walker being your partner
a woman's hips grow wide, wider, square
while her ass grows flat and southward bound
a man's just disappears, as he's left with
the choice of hitchin em up to the moon
or just lettin em fall to the earth
we long for life, cling for more
and who can blame us?
one trip on this merry-go-round
and then anybody's guess what next
but there's a price for such desperation
to pile the cake with candles
and I guess, thank God,
it doesn't happen all at once
and we don't go through it alone
but as i feel the symptoms take root,
see the eyes that look with pity
upon my cancer,
i can't help but take occasional glances
toward the train heading for a gorge
