How many more years can I live like this?
How many years have I lived like this?

The whiskey talks, but I can’t hear
a word it says.

My body, lulled into submission
by its precious poison.

A rotten man trying to reverse
the years of abuse.

Maybe I’ll donate my body
to science.

Maybe I’ll be the first
successful cyborg.

Able to accept the fact
that I will live on without feeling.

But, I’m doing that now.
So what’s the difference?