a night on the arms of venus leaves you a lifetime on mercury

And the doctor has put his last hours of work in for the day by telling the man that the cancer has so thoroughly eaten his body that he won't live another month, not another month. The chemotherapy was no help, he says blaming its posionous effects on the cancer.... You may as well have bathed him in Mercury.... So go home why don't you, he says, and when you can no longer get out of bed, give us a call and we'll see to it you get to the hospital right away so as you can die properly. And, besides we're all waiting for a show — I've been promising the new nurse a good killing for months now. I secretly hope it's a long one, you know, so as I can point out to her the physiology of death setting in. She's an exam to pass. We'll put you on a rocket right on out of here, boy. No more watching the leaves turn to brown for you, hey I don't want to hear it, we all had hopes you know...

... and, tonight I'll fall to sleep dreaming of the tall thin waisted girl with short brown hair I saw on the bus a week ago, she wore heavy wool mittens, dark plaid pants and a belt that passed outside of the hoops. Oh, if she were here now.... if she were here now I'd be more than willing to keep this tragedy going. I’m a human being, like you, I care not what I do.