I'm incontinent I soil the sheets my heartbeat is growing weak

I even find it hard to speak as my urine from me leaks

I strap on my colostomy bag I'm feeling like an old rag

I stagger slowly slow and meek death for me would be a release

My mind is like a leaking sieve my memories I can't relive

I walk a hundred yards in pain I stagger disconsolate and lame

So my death I cannot wait it's an event I'll celebrate

My funeral it seems to me is an event to set me free