[*Charles Bukowski sample*]
The last days of the suicide kid
(*audience member*) "Fuck you man"
Any other comments?
The last days of the suicide kid
I can see myself now
After all these suicide days and nights, being wheeled out of one of these sterile rest homes
Of course, this is only if I get famous and lucky
By a subnormal and bored nurse
There I am sitting upright in my wheelchair
Almost blind, eyes rolling backward into the dark part of my skull
Looking for the mercy of death
"Isn't it a lovely day, Mr. Bukowski?" "Oh yeah, yeah"
The children walk past and I don't even exist
And lovely women walk by with big hot hips and warm buttocks and tight hot everything
Praying to be loved, and I don't even exist
"It's the first sunlight we've had in 3 days, Mr. Bukowski" "Oh yeah, yeah"
There I am, sitting upright in my wheelchair
Myself whiter than this sheet of paper, bloodless
Brain gone, gamble gone, me, Bukowski gone
"Isn't it a lovely day, Mr. Bukowski?" "Oh yeah, yeah"
Pissing in my pajamas, slop drooling out of my mouth
Two young schoolboys run by, "Hey, did you see that old guy?"
"Christ, yes, he makes me sick"
After all the threats to do so, somebody else has committed suicide for me, at last
The nurse stops the wheelchair, breaks a rose from a nearby bush
Puts it in my hand
I don't even know what it is, it might as well be my pecker for all the good it does
The last days of the suicide kid
(*audience member*) "Fuck you man"
Any other comments?
The last days of the suicide kid
I can see myself now
After all these suicide days and nights, being wheeled out of one of these sterile rest homes
Of course, this is only if I get famous and lucky
By a subnormal and bored nurse
There I am sitting upright in my wheelchair
Almost blind, eyes rolling backward into the dark part of my skull
Looking for the mercy of death
"Isn't it a lovely day, Mr. Bukowski?" "Oh yeah, yeah"
The children walk past and I don't even exist
And lovely women walk by with big hot hips and warm buttocks and tight hot everything
Praying to be loved, and I don't even exist
"It's the first sunlight we've had in 3 days, Mr. Bukowski" "Oh yeah, yeah"
There I am, sitting upright in my wheelchair
Myself whiter than this sheet of paper, bloodless
Brain gone, gamble gone, me, Bukowski gone
"Isn't it a lovely day, Mr. Bukowski?" "Oh yeah, yeah"
Pissing in my pajamas, slop drooling out of my mouth
Two young schoolboys run by, "Hey, did you see that old guy?"
"Christ, yes, he makes me sick"
After all the threats to do so, somebody else has committed suicide for me, at last
The nurse stops the wheelchair, breaks a rose from a nearby bush
Puts it in my hand
I don't even know what it is, it might as well be my pecker for all the good it does
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