I saved a junky once   From falling out of a tree   From tumbling, plumming to the peach-like    Ground I reach      Once a flood, and once the flu   Death sits on a neighbour’s face   A victim on every corner   Not one gives the blues a chance      Oh, and it spoils the dalliance of my palm   That I should go on ringing   ‘Til it cracks my bell   That there should be no difference   Between blue plums   And Hell.