Are you dead now, old man Or shall you crawl a while longer In your stains and your stink Because that is not a life you lead But something blind and stumbling Meaningless and mindless Don't you wish you were dead?
Are you cold now, old man Within your cardboard-box bed And your loss and fear? And now summer and youth are long gone With your mind and your heart and soul Leaving nothing but memories Which you cannot grasp anymore What were you once, old man?
Was it pain or neglect Or maybe crumbled dreams? Did you believe things which were lies? Well, why not? So did I And as the cliche has it, There but for the grace of so and so And so on and so forth But now, farewell my lovely For I think that you are dead