No sad songs for me, I’ll tell you why.
My name is on a list that when I die
My flesh and bones, what’s left of me,
I should say all that’s left, will be
Picked up and taken to a place
Where what is left leaves in a vase,
Where bright young folks are taught the skills
They need to fix a body broken on the wheels
Of commerce or wracked by disease,
Excess of many kinds, and all about the fees
For service rendered. Go ahead and cut away,
You youngsters, so you’ll know some day
From what you learned by practicing on me
The way to save a life or to collect a fee.
The reason, does it matter if the job gets done?
Then on the other hand it may occur to one
It’d be okay to go ahead and let them die
When they get sick or hurt. I’ll tell you why.
It’d ease the population problem, screen
Out trash and tend to keep the gene pool clean,
A filter for disease the race don’t need
And traits that can and do debase the breed.
Look at our furred and feathered friends,
For instance those with gills and fins.
Think what a salmon has to do to prove
His bona fides, his lady too, remove
All doubt. Makes better salmon, that’s for shore,
Both for filleting and for making more.