If I Don't Make it to 89

I can’t imagine how the world will be when I’m 89

I bet the sun won’t even shine
The world will run out of wine
And the stars will be permanently aligned

What year would that even be?
Something like 2080?
I bet the world will be too crowded to find me
The urban ocean will swallow the suburban sea
But what kind of a world would that be?

No land left, just the soulless fog
No words left, nothing more to blog
If I never make it to 89
Then that would be just fine

But wait maybe there still is hope
It’s just gonna take a lot more dope
We call it artificial inspiration
But nothing’s more real than that high sensation

So I’ll take it one day at a time
So I can find the perfect rhyme
I won’t be drowned by the future
I’ll float in the present for sure

So if I don’t make it to 89
Then that would be just fine
Because I’ll just keep flowing
With the rhythm of life
And let the sun shine