how did camus really die that night?   were they right?   when he died was it really his time?   or was it suicide?   and holden caufield is a friend of mine   we go drinking from time to time   and i find: it gets harder every time      back off   but you're out on the street again   don't you stop   did you know you couldn't swim   back off   until you're out on the street again   i'm not going to play if there ain't no way i'll win      hemingway never seemed to mind the banality of a normal life   and i find it: gets harder every time   so he aimed the shotgun into the blue   placed his face in between the two and sighed: here's to life!      back off   but you're out on the street again   don't you stop   did you know you couldn't swim   back off   until you're out on the street again   i'm not going to play if there ain't no way i'll win      hey there salinger, what did you do?   just when the world was looking for you   to write anything that meant anything   you told us you were through   and it's been years since you passed away   but i see no plaque, and i see no grave   and i can't help believing that you wanted it that way   and vincent van gogh, why do you weep?   you were on your way to heaven but the road was steep   and who was there to break your fall?   we're guilty, one and all   and i don't know much, but i do know this: with a golden heart comes a rebel fist   but i can't help agreeing with those that would not quit      and it makes me sick when i think of it   all my heroes could not live with this   and i hope you rest in peace because because with us you never did   and you were much too young   and you changed my life   but i draw the line at suicide   so here's to life!