Sweetmeat - Ron Thal

My engine is blown

My balance is thrown

I pushed myself up the hill

And fell to the kill

I degenerate

Collapsed at my gate

I challenged my weakened knees

And fell to disease

The higher we climb the wall

The longer the fall

The decline, the defeat

The decay pickled me

Like a vinegar bath in a jar

Just like flies livin' off the sweetmeat

Have you met my dead friend, Swollen, the head?

Have I introduced you to my lung friend, The Flu?

But friends that won’t leave

Steal the air you breathe

They eat up your final food

None left for you

With smiling friends like these

Who needs enemies

And more with every hour that came, I sank down

With smiling friends like these

There will be no peace