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(Spoken) |
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In a hospital bed on the outskirts of town |
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Lay an old gray man in a soiled white gown. |
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His hair was all wispy, his eyes were a blank. |
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His breath came in spurts from an oxygen tank. |
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The nurse hovered near, and so did the Reaper. |
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But which had the number to his private beeper? |
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Shall he lie there forever with a tube up his nose |
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And his peepee and poopoo slipping out through a hose? |
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Or shall he be released to float towards the light? |
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Like a wee, baby doveling or a really good kite. |
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Let him go! Let him go! |
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It's too late for healing. |
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Put an end to the pain |
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That we know he is feeling. |
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His life is his burden |
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His death is his right. |
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Let's send him off gently |
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Into that good night. |
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(Spoken) |
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Goodnight. |
