.

.
If the search has been long and futile and brutal,
And if you squint trying to recollect the bosom
Of your hoodlum love...
Hey, baby
.
You reach out and into the absence and, gasping,
The vastness grabs you like an alien embrace,
Your face to its face...
.
No end, and neither beginning.
You''re spinning,
You''re breathless, orbiting a dark and hateful star,
An evil world.
.
Where would I ever be without you?
How could I hope to seize the tablet of values
And redact it?
Foolish I know.
.
But I''m about to die,
About to die,
About to die,
About to die.
.
Your life must surely be ending, and, trembling,
You realize you never lived a day at all, Wait...
And it''s all your fault. Wow!
.
It all seems unspeakably vile, and while
You wretch the memory of all you understood,
The vandal laughs into his hood.
.
Where would I ever be without you?
How could I hope to seize the tablet of values
And redact it?
Foolish I know.
.
But I''m about to die,
About to die,
About to die,
About to die.
.
Look there, the goblin''s dressed up like a wound.
Mutants are vagrant and hateful.
.
Look there, the mirror: a zombie stands staring,
Vacant and glaring, pronouncing your name.
As you''re saying...
.
''Bout to die, ''bout to die...
About to die,
About to die.
''Bout to die, ''bout to die...
.
Where would I ever be without you? f*cking
How could I hope to seize the tablet of values
And redact it?
Foolish I know.
.
But I''m about to die,
About to die,
About to die,
About to die.
.
''Bout to die, ''bout to die...
About to die,
About to die.
''Bout to die, ''bout to die...
.

You''re already dead... but you''re about to die
.