Autor: Sora33
Let me die a youngman's death
not a clean and inbetween
the sheets holywather death
not a famous-last-words
peaceful out of breath death.
When I'm 73
and in constant good tumour
may I be mowed down at dawn
by a bright re sports car
on my way home
from a allnight party.
Or when I'm 91
with solver hair
and sitting in a barber's chair
may rival gangsters
with hamfisted tommyguns burst in
and give me short back and insides.
Or wehn I'm 104
and banned from the Carven
may my mistress
catching me in bed with her daughter
and fearing for her son
cut me up into little pieces
ant throw away every piece but one.
Let me die a youngman's death
not a free from sin tiptoe in
candel wax and warning death
not a curtains drawn by angels borne
'what a nice way to go' death
not a clean and inbetween
the sheets holywather death
not a famous-last-words
peaceful out of breath death.
When I'm 73
and in constant good tumour
may I be mowed down at dawn
by a bright re sports car
on my way home
from a allnight party.
Or when I'm 91
with solver hair
and sitting in a barber's chair
may rival gangsters
with hamfisted tommyguns burst in
and give me short back and insides.
Or wehn I'm 104
and banned from the Carven
may my mistress
catching me in bed with her daughter
and fearing for her son
cut me up into little pieces
ant throw away every piece but one.
Let me die a youngman's death
not a free from sin tiptoe in
candel wax and warning death
not a curtains drawn by angels borne
'what a nice way to go' death
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