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Death is a junkie,
forlorn and deep in debt,
and sure, he's looking funky,
but he's someone you must accept

You see him oftentimes;
he sees you only once
That's when time stops and runs,
and when that church bell chimes

He's huddling down the street,
wrapped in a ragged coat,
and you are in defeat,
no use to shrink or bloat

Humans his drug of choice
when they have lived too much
and cracked their human voice;
it's them he wants to touch

Death is a drug addict
and you're the drug
There's really no conflict;
he wants to hug

So whether you're at home,
or in Bob Dylan's dome,
he's gonna find you yet,
design your end, you bet!

Bunden vers (Rim) av Ingvar Loco Nordin VIP
Läst 11 gånger
Publicerad 2020-11-13 11:16

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