How did it come to this?

How did it come to this?

Long ago, I was loved.

Now forlorn and spurned,

a debile who can't hold his piss.

How did it come to this?

I remember the old feelings –

those which I once felt

when I was young and svelte –

I with eyes fixed on the ceiling.

I remember the old feelings.

My life is a bleak tundra:

none to speak to, none to love,

just good enough to get rid of.

Time's an invincible hydra.

My life is a bleak tundra.

I wish God had left me alone.

Now I sleep to pass the time –

P'haps I did that in my prime –

now I woke up a bag of bones.

I wish God had left me alone.

If only I had the courage,

I would hang myself high and dry –

I'd slit my throat if only I –

But I need to pay the mortgage.

If only I had the courage.

The ennui is slowly killing me.

Lone days pass: I enrage, I whimper,

I envy, I brood and I limper.

Sad to say: I just turned thirty-three,

the ennui already killing me.