James Somers If dying old's like slipping on the couch

Tekst piosenki

If dying old’s like slipping on the couch
toward half-distracted sleep,
like drifting from a good film’s grip to dream,
then when the time comes, when my time comes,
please would you turn down the sound,
and back gently from the room,
and save from shame a man who knows
he’s slipping toward his doom