Here you are so sick again,
You don't look so well,
The skin sags around your skull,
And your bed sores really smell
I could try to help you,
Do as I've always done,
Tell you everything's o.k.,
And then dial 9-1-1
But somehow this time's different,
There's nothing in your eyes,
Except the pain of living,
That accompanies your cries
You whisper something in my ear,
And I hold your hand in mine,
I make a solemn promise,
No ambulance this time
Copyright; EGHarne
