I’m not ready to die, so set those shovels aside and get those vulchers off my back. I got a lot of fight left in me. Life is a struggle, a seemingly never-ending series of struggles, but I won’t break easily. When I’m broken, I’m sharp to the touch. The demons that haunt me will return to hell bloodied. Besides, I can still outrun them. Black care rarely sits behind a rider whose pace is fast enough, wrote TR. You can take everything from me, and I know you will. Yet I’m not going without a fight. I shall remain defiant. I shall resist until the very end.