I'm...half gone. Heavy do these feet tread And with so many miles to go 'for I'm dead. I feel a pulsing in my head And desire naught but the sheets on my bed. What is life, what is dreams, what is fake, what is real? What does it mean when you last learn to feel? Do you understand texture, Comprehend rough? Parcial to rocks or things soft to the touch? What does it mean when you last learn to see? Do you understand vision And know when life's blury? Heavy do these eyelids sag; I keep pressing on, and continue to lag. I feel the beat begin to drag Still every count by fingerst tag. What does it mean when you last learn to smell? There's a difference in odors; Sniff the air, can you tell? What does it mean when you last learn to taste? Do you then take your time, Or still swollow in haste? One and a two and a three and a four and a Trip-l-et, Trip-l-et, Trip-l-et--stop Done with the day and to bed I then flop and Breathe--in for four; For one stressful week; Out for four; For I'm stressed and weak. Black ink, my savior, I thank you once more-- My confessions rest with you; I s'pose that's what you're for. Black ink, my savior, I thank you again, For saving my mind; My soul-- Amen.