I'm sorry grim reaper.
You're going to have to come back later.
I'm writing letters to loved ones,
and it can't wait till later.
And I'm writing down vows,
to save my soul from myself.
Because as it stands now,
I'm riding first class,
on a train straight to Hell.
And it may be too late,
but can you blame me for trying?
I have too many words,
and no spare time left for dying.
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