Free me from this sickness,
rip from me my heart,
leave it beating on the open street.
Living is hard,
dying is easy,
struggling forward down towards the dust.
Life is a game they say,
it seems I'm not good at it,
the keys are backward,
ivory and ebony.
It is not without sunlit ray,
I have with me my family,
hearts beating in syncopation.
I can't quit just yet,
somewhere off in the distance,
lies an unborn child,
waiting for my assistance.