now leaving on track 13

in a hospital bed on the outskirts of town

lay an old gray man in a soiled white gown

his hair was all wispy

his eyes were a blank

his breath came in spurts from an oxygen tank

the nurse hovered near

and so did the reaper

but which had the number to his private beeper?

shall he lie there forever with a tube up his nose

and his pee-pee and poo-poo slipping out through a hose?

or shall he be released to float towards the light?

like a wee

baby doveling or a really good kite

let him go! let him go

it's too late for healing

put an end to the pain

that we know he is feeling

his life is his burden

his death is his right

let's send him off gently

into that good night

goodnight