Who's Up, Who's Down

I'm dog tired
from boxing and beer
a shot to the head, one to the gut
Don't care who's up or who's down
which Hollywood star is pregnant
or suffering the pain of betryal or struggling to kick an eating disorder
don't care about the Dow Jones Industrial average
my wife's got a pain in her hip and I worry about that
I'm flying to San Diego in the morning, through friendly skies -- but only after
I remove my shoes for the TSA, take all the stuff from my pockets,
show my boarding pass and ID, just another decent American, boys,
law-abiding, no threat to anyone, you got nothing to fear from me
I got Philip Roth in the bag, an iPod in my ear, clean underwear, pictures of my
family
I can't help but think of these fleeting moments, the pang of mortality
jab, jab, duck and cover