Cure for Cancer

It's all downhill
 from here, old man.
 Auf wiedersehen.
 Two steps forward,
 six feet underground.
 Standing O,
 Take a bow.
 Lab coats,
 machines
 and all the chemotherapy
 don't seem
 to me
 an answer to these tears you long to see.
 So i ain't crying no more.
 I'd pull out the plug
 if i could muster up the love.
 No one wants memories of
 skid marks
 pants pissed.
 Jim Beam,
 Mary Jane.
 Wherefore art thou Kevorkian?
 No way,
 Jose,
 it's not for me
 this life spent basking in you agony.
 Give me the longest walks.
 Prescribe for me the shortest piers.
 I ain't going out like that.
 No way, not me, I'd rather die
 And as I stood there by his bed,
 bowls of Jell-O, crusts of bread,
 stared straight into his eyes
 and I wanted him to die.
 And I felt the shame
 Of such, such naiveté
 that someone young,
 that someone dumb,
 someone my age
 could feel so callously
 to want to piss in the fountains of youth,
 to dance all night on the graves of the dead,
 to want to tear those pink ribbons to shreds.
 And as he lay there in his bed,
 80 pounds, half dead,
 He said, "Bink, please hold my hand...
 I don' think that you understand...
 Oh, puneta, I've done all that I can
 and I don't want to die."
 You're gonna die
 You're gonna die.
 You're gonna.