Old bone of bags, bags old of bones, shipwrecked hot toddy.
No longer a hot body, wrinkled, pickled as a pickle
Stuck in societies jar, hand's ******, arms tired, barb wire wraps
My
Scars, as by far I've been into to many bars to count,
Up and out, or up and over.
Purely sober,
Roll over rover:
Is what the youngins tell me.
But I still have life left to give
A breath to live
To infinity,