william mcdowell i will make myself a mile from the racetrack drag my losses home it kills me not come back and we float with parasites all our lives there s me with the geriatrics at the slot machines there s me the embodiment of how slow life can be there s me their dead eyes are glowing mine are always shut i passed out on the road just hours from the racetrack i saw lamotta raise a toast he said you got me with the right jab and we float with parasites all our lives with this advice we learn until we re dead be losers til your sanguine thoughts subside we learn until we re dead a falling dream s not just a morbid sign it s opportunity if you could make this old heart young again i d find another topic to drone on a more fashionable vice to lean on some better words to speak on that escaped my younger form but there s me with the geriatrics at the slot machines there s me the embodiment of how slow life can be there s me short of imposing please be involved can i stop imploding at every obstacle thrown on me imply this is only a prettier glimpse of a life so ugly that s mine