Speak to Me
ROBIN LOXLEY, SMUDGE MASON
The memories of a man in his old age - are the deeds of a man in his prime - You shuffle in the gloom of the sick room - and talk to yourself as you die - For life is a short, warm moment - and death is a long, cold rest - You get your chance to try - in the twinkling of an eye - Eighty years, with luck - or even less - So all aboard - for the American tour - and maybe, you'll make it to the top But mind how you go - and I can tell you, cause I know You may find it hard to get off - You are the angel of death - and I am the dead man's son - He was buried like a mole in a fox hole - And everyone's still on the run.