I cling to the things I know,
to the things that show,
my hands look old!
Pain has become a long term friend,
with never a once seeing the end,
so I cling to life.
Beauty, love and cherished things,
and the creativity that morning brings,
help me cling to life.
My legs, my hands, my aching head,
are all the things I dread,
but I cling to life.
Soon I may be the last man standing,
which looks like nonsense and meandering,
And yet I cling to life.