clean sheets, white wrinkled cotton,

clean sheets, white wrinkled cotton,
clean and fresh and me in them,
another morning to leave the bed
for all my life has become,
miles of telephone line and pounds of mail
hammer daily nails in my coffin that will
be plain pine, plain pine, no fuss,
straightforward and unadorned
as I wish it all was now but the
only place I have it simple
is in my bed with clean sheets