Susan

Susan, you're calm While cancer is bringing you down You don't blame cocaine Nor the whiskey you shared With some Laurel-come-lately, no You spend your days on the Pacific The Atlantic, or the Adriatic Who gives a f*ck? When you're dying and you've had enough Pharmacy lights And casual contact with those who prescribe Daylight, or demise But your lungs are pushing on With the help of loose sands That were formed into little pills I.V's, or blessings Who gives a f*ck? When you're dying and you've had enough Sometimes our lives seem unspecific As we go rambling 'round till the break of dawn But who gives a f*ck? When you're dying and you've had enough Wasteland, ahoy Like a flight over where you were born Your family, they're dead and gone And your memories have been repaved With freeway on-ramps Carved into Spanish hills Where you took communion But who gives a f*ck? When you're dying and you've had enough When you're dying and you've had enough