6th of December
Frank Alva Buecheler, Neil Hannon
Dear father
There can be no doubt
The outcome of the operation was conclusive
They couldn't remove it
In two days, I start the chemotherapy
I don't rate my chances
I'm too young
Much too young
It's growing, I know it
Why me? Why now?
For what reason?
I've sent Anna away
Her things are standing in the hall
Boxes of books and a suitcase
She gave me a picture of Italy
I hung it above granddad's sofa
Otherwise, the rooms are empty
Clinical, as you'd say
How apt
Don't worry
I'm strong
Your son