Oink-Oink

 

We meet again
Old, pig-like friend
I see you still
Wish my life’s end

And so I go
And grab my knife
To stab you not
Nor my own life

But the disease
Which brought us here
And paralyzed
Us both with fear

Now grab my hand
I’ll grab your tail
So we can squeak
When we both fail

My little pork
You filthy swine
You came along
To see me whine

But I like you
For you’re myself
Consumed by fire
In my own hell

You give me hope
You bring me joy
I wish to live
But I…

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