"Sometimes I see me as an old manatee
Heading south as the waters grow colder
He tries to steer clear of the hum drum so near
It cuts prop scars deep in his shoulders
That's how it flows right to the end
His body's still flexible but that
Barnacle brain don't bend
I'm growing older but not up
My metabolic rate is pleasantly stuck
So let the winds of change blow over my head
I'd rather die while I'm living than live while I'm dead"
...