The stomach-turning cacophony of bone grinding on bone,
Reminding every mortal man that his time spent here will end,
And should he use this time unwisely it will end with him alone,
It's clear to me this constant pain is a sign of sins I must atone,
Despite the fact there there is nothing I wouldn't do or wouldn't lend,
The stomach-turning cacophony of bone grinding on bone,
I'm not sure how to comprehend the cease of quiet with a moan,
If we've got feeding and fucking covered- is there time for me to mend?
And should he use this time unwisely it will end with him alone,
Stipulated silence is not something I can condone,
To that effect I'd rather hear each tangential trend,
The stomach-turning cacophony of bone grinding on bone,
I reserve my right to act as youth- though the world made me a crone,
I choose to take face value in the messages you send,
And should he use this time unwisely it will end with him alone,
Perhaps this labile way of acting is something to bemoan,
But I can feel these cracking bones and someday they will not bend,
The stomach-turning cacophony of bone grinding on bone,
And should he use this time unwisely it will end with him alone,