Life's bittersweet,
dam near
scary under your feet.
Airplanes crashing,
hoodlums head bashing.
Terrorist on the prowl,
baseball players even fowl.

Riding along in my automobile,
certainly is a great thrill,
that is until,
some fool almost,
introduces me to the
Holy Ghost,
or knocks me clean to hell
to visit the devil for a spell.

I should be shaking in my shoes,
drunk and singing the blues.
Sitting under a shade tree,
thanking the Lord I'm free.
Free to pay my taxes,
don't in comes the IRS axes.

Now I'll wobble on,
be glad I was born.
Born to die someway,
don't know the freaking day.
Can't live worrying about death,
but I truly wish,
my behind was stealth.

G