Anyway, it's like this, too. I am getting so old, so long in the tooth, Morality is finally creeping over me. What my life should be Is longer than what my life can be. Life is like an airport. Everywhere in the world to get to But you're stuck where you are-- Chewing peanuts at a neon bar. Anyway, my heart-meat Beats its somnambulist's drum. Anyway. I don't want to have to ask permission! Heaven is like this, see. A giant empty hanger, walls all windows Watching the skirl and stop of snows always. Nobody stays very long, And no layovers. I keep wanting to be dead, and I keep Wanting. Anyway.