The winter pushes on my heart and

I know

there’s something mean coming.

The good men get bad sick

and we hurt for more time that won’t be

in our cities far away,

chasing money and success

to make you proud.

Pride and success and money won’t take

the cancer out of kidneys,

or make the heart work right again,

but I’ll keep stuffing it in and failing you

while it takes my best years.