Don't tell me death is profound
I've barely squeezed out a fifth of this gut laugh
I'm going to taste this rigatoni
and watch another Sopranos Funeral
it’ll be my anti-drug.
I've got an ice-cream sandwich in my future
two chocolate slabs of death
with a rich creamy filling
the poor man's klondike bar
fifty cents a pop.
Don’t ask me who I was in the void
I like the way my voice is squeaking
I don’t know who I am anymore, I never giggled before
I’m someone who can be someone else, someone who would
climb the corporate ladder for a klondike bar, storm the olive garden
just to punk the don, I’d die laughing.
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