Jim Songtext
von King Missile

Jim is a new character I just thought of today, but I warn
You: Don′t get too used to him. Don't try to get to know
Him. Don′t try to like him, because I'm going to kill him
That is what I do. I invent people and then I kill them

Jim walks with a limp, but don't worry about it. It doesn′t matter

That he does and it doesn′t matter why, because he's going to die

Okay, he was bit by a dog last week, that′s why he limps, okay?

And it wasn't his fault at all. Nor is it his fault that he will die

He will die because he had the poor sense to be invented by me. He

Doesn′t deserve to die. He is a nice guy with a lot of friends and

He is helpful and reliable. A lot of people count on him and they

Will be sad when he dies in a few moments. And it is too bad for


Those people. Some of these people will also die because they count
On Jim and Jim is going to die and Jim won't be there when they need
Him and so they will die too. So it will be a shame for these people
People I also invented. People like Jane, who has no arms. People
Like Jack, who has lung cancer. People like John (not me, a different
John) who is autistic. Jim is a friend to them all and he helps them
All in countless and valuable ways. But it doesn′t matter. None of
It matters. I only bring these things and people up for only two
Reasons: So that as I write them down I can think about exactly how
Jim will die, and so that his meaningless death will have meaning

Would you like to know what Jim does for a living? So would I
Let's see. Jim is independently wealthy. He doesn't have to work
But he does anyway. He does volunteer work. He helps out at
The cancer ward and in the section of the hospital where the
People who have no arms live and on the weekends he works with
Autistic children like John (not me) . Does Jim have a love life?
No. He is too busy and too shy. Does Jim have any pets? No
Are Jim′s parents still alive? Yes. It will be tragic for them
When Jim dies, maybe of a brain hemorrhage, I haven′t decided yet

Okay, let's do it. This morning Jim was reading the paper. He was

Reading an article about the Congo, the country formerly known as

Zaire, and he was drinking coffee and he spilled the coffee on

Himself and it burned, it was very hot, and he jumped out of his

Chair and he bumped his head on the wall somehow and fell out of the

Window and landed on his bad leg and limped into the street and got

Hit by an ambulance and left for dead but he wasn′t dead yet, he was

Just lying in the curb and pigeons came along and ate his eyes and

Seagulls ripped his stomach out and pelicans ate his liver and his

Spleen popped out all on its own and turned into a harmonica and


Played a pleasant little tune. Then out came his pancreas, which

Turned into the dog that bit him last week and it bit him again and

Again and again many times. Jim was writhing in agony, and just then

Jack, Jane, and John (not me) walked by. But they didn't recognize

Him, so they did nothing. They could have saved him, but they were

Too distracted. They could have saved Jim, but they didn′t, they left

Him dying there. So don't blame me, ′cause I wasn't even there. Jim

Was killed by his friends, really, because one of them stepped on

His face as they walked by and the other two kicked him by accident

But still, they kicked him, one in an exposed part of his brain where

A piece of his skull had come off and the other in the testicles
Which technically maybe wasn't a direct cause of death, but it sure
Didn′t help matters any either. Jim recognized his friends, of
Course, but of course his throat was full of blood and he was unable
To call out their names. This made him unbearably, impossibly sad and
He lost the will to live right then and there and just right then he
Died. Did he choke to death on his own blood and vomit? Perhaps. Did
He die from the loss of his internal organs? You could say that
Maybe. Did he die from the kick in the brain or from getting hit by
The ambulance? Well, look, causes of death, like meanings

Of life, are mysterious and ineffable. We can speculate
For the rest of the evening if you like, and one can
Attribute Jim′s death to any number of assorted factors
But as for me, I like to think he died of a broken heart