Here lies the body of this world,
Whose soul alas to hell is hurled.
This golden youth long since was past,
Its silver manhood went as fast,
An iron age drew on at last;
'Tis vain its character to tell,
The several fates which it befell,
What year it died, when 'twill arise,
We only know that here it lies.
I'm wired and amped; my feet know the last dance. What's a poor old end-run death dog to do But surrender to music's honeyed trance, Waltzing to it like dreams that seem cuckoo? But nothing 's crazy at last dance juncture -- Just before the call for all to get lost: When sanity stretches but won't rupture, And one can see crystalizing hoarfrost.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 