and now no end in sight
I light my final
cigarette

the door is locked
the curtains drawn

I was born
don't know why
and now I'll die

the hand that takes the blade
is shaking slightly.

A thought,
how the mighty fall
and in all honesty
I have to ask, '
How?


I'll be here when the cows come home and how is that possible?
I'm asking myself because I live in the city but go back to the country
for answers to questions I ask and the air is clearer there.

I light another final smoke because I'm not good at being final and
put a vinyl on the record deck,
Brubeck,
it's a good choice.


Poison,
that's a chalice we take sips from
the pills that we fly trips on

I take these shots on the chin
another final spin
get ready
begin

Do I remember how?
you bet I do.