are closing in on me.

I insist there’s nothing wrong,

but they say that can’t be.

A man is made of sicknesses,

there’s no such thing as well.

They’ll keep me in their grasp and care

from birth to final bell.

You’ll find they lurk at hospitals

and frequent pharmacies.

The feds and meds and big pharm heads

combine to pay their fees.

Next time you see some men with stretchers

parked along your block,

run like hell, they’re out to get you.

You are on the clock.