text:  Don't call for your surgeon, even he says it's late. It's not your lungs that's dying, but your heart holds your fate. Don't give me my money back, I don't want it anymore. It's not that nursery mouth I came back for. It's not the way it's stretched out on the floor. If you were mine, I'd ask you to fight my wars. And you should know that's true. You should know that too.