To rip or not to rip
That is the flight plan
Whether it is nobler in the mind to place the first page on the centre console
Or hide it away on the clip board where no-one can see it.
To die, to sleep, no more
Will I make the bunks
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
Of the woollen blankets rubbed against the nylon-covered floor.
The sandwiches from Hong Kong with that salty pink stuff therein
'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.
To die, to sleep, to sleep perchance to dream of Strawberry's
Ay, where's my rubber...?
BB