(Spoken)
|
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.
|
Let's send him off gently
|
Into that good night.
|
(Spoken)
|
Goodnight.
|
|
-----------------
|
(track 13 Is Untitled)
|
| Spinal Tap |
