Jim Nollman asks whether we’ve created a brutish institution against dying that refuses simple relief.
Weeks go by when standing’s too much for me to bear
Then one good day arrives, the pain seems to disappear
It could take as long as a year or two
Before my body finally goes
Doc, won’t you please prescribe the medicine
No one else ever has to knowMy family does its best to help me bear this pain
They accept my decision, sure I feel their strain
I’ve never told anyone how to live their life
So don’t tell me how to end mine
Doc, won’t you please prescribe the medicine
And I won’t take any more of your timeThese days my body’s numb and all strung out on meds
Hooked to this humming machine parked beside my bed
What makes so much more sense to me
Is to go out clear of mind
Doc, please prescribe some medicine
Before I run out of time.Who can say for certain what awaits us after this
While some say we come back, others talk of heaven’s bliss
But don’t lecture me that life’s worth living
Can’t you see its meaningless to me
Doc, won’t you please prescribe some medicine
And you will set me free
Last Days, about dying with dignity, and featuring an interspecies interaction with wolves.