5 And so maybe they didn't really make it either,
6 And were really like the rest of us instead,
7 aExcept maybe they had a better press agent or something.
8 Only, I've been thinking about Lincoln a lot,
9 Ever since they put me in here,
10 And I keep seeing this picture of him in my head,
11 bWhich maybe has to do with all the pills they give me,
12 Because I see other things I shouldn't too,
13 Which kind of scares me,
14 And so I think about Lincoln instead,
15 With his beard,
16 And his ugly beat-up face,
17 And those eyes.
CHAPTER 151 In a way, it's like coming back at something you've seen a million times,
2 Only from a completely different direction,
3 Which makes it all look different,
4 Completely,
5 Because I'm an old man now,
6 cAnd I've gotten older than Lincoln ever had a chance to get,
7 And so I know those eyes of his aren't about being older,
8 Which maybe I used to think when I was a kid,
9 Because my eyes aren't like that—
10 In spite of all the trouble and pain I've ever experienced,
11 And all the things I've ever worried about,
12 And all the ideas and causes I've ever believed in,
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13 My eyes don't see what Lincoln's saw,
14 And I just can't ever get to the end of who he must have been,
15 Which makes me feel better somehow.
CHAPTER 161 And even though I'm kind of embarrassed to admit it,
2 I've been thinking about Jesus a lot too,
3 Which I never thought I'd do,
4 Because he's gotten kind of paler over the years,
5 dLike he's gradually fading from the scene somehow,
6 Just like me,
7 And you only hear his name when an eorderly stubs a toe on the food cart,
8 fOr when someone switches the TV on on a Sunday morning,
9 Which some of the other antiques seem to enjoy,
10 But doesn't really have anything to do with my memories,
11 Which have to do with the smell of honeysuckle drifting into the smell of velvet and wax through an open stained-glass window,
12 gWhile the choir sings something,
13 Maybe not completely on key,
14 But beautiful anyway,
15 Because Jesus was listening,
16 And understood how it was.
CHAPTER 171 God, it frightens me to sit here talking about Jesus,
2 Knowing how it must sound,
3 hAnd knowing I'm all full of pills,
4 And probably look exactly like all the other gray, shriveled vegetables they've got planted on couches and chairs in this linoleum waiting room where they send you to die,
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