The Lights In This Ward

Don't die,
Will my one request count?
When the radio plays,
Are we the hospital ward?

I'm compelled to plead,
And applaud.
I'll applaud,
When the tomb goes into
the ground.

I'm eighty-seven years old,
And she moved me.
I'll meet her on the other side.

I feel bad,
That turning on my side,
Is harsh to the point,
That I hurt what I had.

No-one visits anymore,
Except my grandkids.
Are they're all out chasing girls,
As the lights in this ward turn off.

Good luck to them.
It's what I'd do,
If I I had the heart left.

And I really hope one of them
finds the girl of his dreams.
And tears himself away,
When it comes to my funeral,
next Thursday.

I really hope one of them
tears himself away
from my funeral
next Thursday.