Walter Cornelius Alvin Howard Zilinskas
Lived in a cabin on the Kenai Peninsula of Alaska
Never cared seriously much for anything
He fished all summer then disappeared until Spring
Nobody knew that he kept a meticulous journal
About existence, death and everlasting life eternal
He wrote his misgivings of everyone's opinions
And how much he hated the million billion minions
Once, a very long time ago
He had spent his afternoons writing the Mayor of Chicago
Living in a big house in the city of big shoulders
Where he kept all of his rants in efficiently filed folders
One cold afternoon in May he made two decisions
Buy a parcel of land and a lot of provisions
Sell his house and all of his worldly possessions
Run away from all these people and their useless questions
It was with a certain pride that he built his home all on his own
He was determined to only eat what he had hunted or grown
Without the assistance of anyone else
Believing he could make it all by himself
Three winters he survived living just south of Ninilchik
The police would later determine his end had come quick
When one April a Ranger found him cold and stiff in his bed
From the pistol in his hand that had put a bullet through his head
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