My Son Don't Give a Shit About Me, but How Much Longer Will You Live?

I think of your father every night, his radiant beauty and perseverance. He was a marine corps sergeant by the we travelled the pacific coast highway on his motor cycle. I couldn't imagine life getting any better. Maybe i should tell you, my dear boy, your mother is dying. Do you want the nursing home to inform him when it's time to collect your body? Don't get mad at me for saying these things. But how much longer will you live? What do you mean by that? My little vixen told me your cancer sells have spread. It may seem all full of vim and vigor, but i could die at any moment. There's a time