I had to wear a hospital gown
I managed not to say out loud
See what you have become
They say clothes make the man
I’ve worn neckties handcuffs bellbottoms and gardeners’ gloves

Some folks claim to know who they are
Some even demand that others acquiesce
I’ve been sitting on this fence so long
I have a fence-shaped crease
In the seat of my pants

If I died now who would go to hell or heaven
The professional the criminal the hippie or the gardener
Some folks claim to know
But maybe death is not a change of place
Just a change of clothes