No **** (Explicit)

It was in the winter

Of my fiftieth year

When it hit me

I was really alone

And there wasn't a hell

A lot of time left

Every laugh

And touch that

I could get

Became more important

Strangely

I became more bookish

And my home and study

Meant more to me

As I considered

The circumstances

Of my death

I wanted to find

A balance between

Joy and dignity

On my way out

Above all

I didn't want to take

Any more s**t

Not from anybody