THE ART OF FALLING APART
There's quite an art to falling apart as the years go by. And life doesn't begin at 40. That's a big fat lie. My hair's getting thinner, my body is not; The few teeth I have are beginning to rot. I smell of Vick's-Vapo-Rub, not Chanel # 5; My new pacemaker's all that keeps me alive. When asked of my past, every detail I'll know, But what was I doing 10 minutes ago? Well, you get the idea, what more can I say? I'm off to read the obituary, like I do every day If my names not there, I'll once again start - Perfecting the art of falling apart. Click below to forward this page. Back to Monique's Greetings
There's quite an art to falling apart as the years go by. And life doesn't begin at 40. That's a big fat lie. My hair's getting thinner, my body is not; The few teeth I have are beginning to rot. I smell of Vick's-Vapo-Rub, not Chanel # 5; My new pacemaker's all that keeps me alive. When asked of my past, every detail I'll know, But what was I doing 10 minutes ago? Well, you get the idea, what more can I say? I'm off to read the obituary, like I do every day If my names not there, I'll once again start - Perfecting the art of falling apart.
Click below to forward this page.
Back to Monique's Greetings
