I don’t know what I’ve got
Perhaps I’d rather not
Know the illness or
Condition that will kill me.
Too much info
Is the burden of a nation
When ignorance is bliss
Seal silence with a kiss.
Marching on and up
Is the only way to go
There is no point in looking back
The wife of Lot did that.
Pressing forward stoically
Wrestling illness heroically
Let’s not name the bastard
Let him die within me quietly.
Not every sickness deserves a name
I’d rather pass if it’s all the same
The world doesn’t need to know
Not every secret is for show.
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