Staring at the ceiling,
Counting passing stars,
I never thought my numbers
Would ever get that far.
Yet I keep on counting,
Hoping for the best.
All I really wanted,
Was some peaceful rest.
Alas! The world thought it funny
That a simple man like I
Should have any peace at all
Till the day I’ll die.
So my number ‘s rising
And my day grow dim
It’s not too far, the day
I’ll take my final swim.