You think you've got troubles -
There is always someone having worse -
Your trouble is you've got
A terminal disease called Vita Brevis -
In spite of all your joy
In seeing children grow
And flowers bloom and Alps erode
It's out to get you
At some inconvenient time -
But that is best - not so?
Who wants a rendez-vous? Not I -
Let others throw the switch - Zap! Wham!