and he’d sit there all day long just sayin’ how tired of life he was…almost like a cry…a small yelp or a little howl by this grown man who’d given up…all those hours wasted…by himself…whisperin’…,I’m tired of life…, you’d think one day he’d just have ‘nough and put it all to an end…some people just like complainin’ I guess…

stopped feelin’ bad for him…after awhile it just became his nature…no movement…wouldn’t eat…didn’t even drink Pepsi anymore…everything was shuttin’ down…his whole way ’bout him…way he carried himself when he was younger…no more…it’s like he wouldn’t even try…

and he had this awful smell…an old man smell…didn’t shower for weeks…never brushed his yellow teeth…he was not one for hygiene…remember when he was younger he’d slap on Aqua Velva every mornin’…put stuff in his hair to slick it back…wore a stiff white tee under every dress shirt…and his shoes shined…used Kiwi polish…

sat there with a wooden box every Sunday and made those black Oxford’s shine…he stopped shinin’ long time ago…just stopped one day…and sat in that chair sayin’…,I’m tired of life…I’m tired of life…,over and over again…hard to feel bad for a man who gives up…hard to…