Your muscles will turn to jelly.
Punks may beckon you come hither
Laugh and slash your belly.
Your mind will slow your memory fail
Your skin will droop and sag.
In any light you’ll look like hell,
When nude, doctors will gag.
Now richer than Zuckerman,
Loved by each girl and boy,
It's never gone beyond your ken:
Others get far more joy.
Even when all is going great
And on an upward trend,
You know that at a certain date
Your life will meet its end.
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