I can’t be like this, Frankie. Not after what I’ve done. I’ve seen the world. People chanted my name. Well, not my name, some damn name you gave me. They were chanting for me. I was in magazines. You think I ever dreamed that’d happen? I was born at two pounds, one-and-a-half ounces. Daddy used to tell me I fought to get into this world, and I’d fight my way out. That’s all I want to do, Frankie. I just don’t want to fight you to do it. I got what I needed. I got it all. Don’t let ’em keep taking it away from me. Don’t let me lie here ’till I can’t hear those people chanting no more.
