The shell that I live in, is all skin and bone
Not much I suppose, but it’s where I call home
And when it’s worn out, and well past it’s prime
I’ll know that it’s only a matter of time
When my skin bomes wrinkled, and my bones start to creak
When my limbs ache all day, and I can barely speak
When the hairs in my ears are as long as can be
I’ll know that my body, will be the death of me.
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