These are my own words written for a bad song I’ll never sing.

“Gotta get me peace of mind. Gonna cost me some money. Livin’ on borrowed time til you cash out, honey. Got me them insurance blues! Gonna win if I die. Gonna lose if I live. Got me them insurance blues! It’s my life I gotta give.”

I bought a 20-year term life insurance policy that expires in nine years. For a substantial payout upon my death, the semiannual premiums cost is in the thousands for a man my age. Of course, the company roots for me to live past the expiration date so they won’t have to pay a single nickel to my survivors. I’m rolling the dice to help them out.

“Gotta get me some peace of mind. When I get sick they pay the trick. But if their money don’t kick. Gonna still be sick! Got me them insurance blues! Pay the premiums and what da ya get? Ain’t no lie. They gonna deny, deny, deny!”

My doctor ordered an MRI for a pinched nerve that has caused my right hand to lose most of its strength. First, his request was denied because the new hospital on Route 443 in Lehighton was not yet set up to take my provider’s insurance. Then the MRI was denied a second time until my doctor had to write the diagnosis with certain wording before I was finally given approval for the procedure at 7:30 on a Saturday morning, two weeks after the test was ordered.

At 1:30 that afternoon, my doctor recommended I have urgent surgery to prevent further atrophy in my hand and he suggested we schedule as soon as possible.

“Now you just wait a minute,” said the gods of health insurance. They denied his request for my surgery until after I complete six weeks of physical therapy that my doctor said wouldn’t help me and just delay the inevitable. I was referred to the physical therapy center which is literally down the hall from my doctor’s office.

“Now, you just wait another minute!” said the gods of insurance. The PT department does not accept the same provider that my doctor does. So, I needed to go elsewhere. Meanwhile, my hand continues to lose strength and what was going to be surgery in early November will now be shuffled out to the middle of December or even later, or at least until after I finish the therapy.

“Gotta get me some peace of mind. Won’t need no tools. Got me them car warranty blues! Got me them car warranty blues!” I just bought a 2014 Subaru. Added to the sticker price was a hard sell for an extended warranty that I did not buy. They said for $3,500, the car’s powertrain is covered for the life of the car.

I did the math. I did buy the less expensive six-month protection plan. Let’s say the transmission blows, that’s a $1,700 repair. Let’s add the air conditioner. That might be another grand. So, for a $3,500 protection plan, I would have paid $2,700.

But what if the electrical system fails and the real axle should seize, they say? If the trans blows, the AC stops, the electrical system fails, and the rear axle won’t turn, then why have a warranty at all? Junk the car and get another. That’s the only road to peace of mind.

In my twisted view of life, my life insurance company wants me to live past the expiration date of my policy. My pension and social security programs both want me to die so they can end all my benefits. The car warranty company is banking on zero major repairs so they can keep all the money charged to me for the policy.

Life Insurance, or perhaps it should be called death insurance, relies on fear factors. What if this should happen or what if that should happen? No one wants to die and leave their family in dire straits. For my life insurance term policy, I will have paid $92,000 in premiums for 20 years so that my family is protected should I pass away. And that’s with a low-risk policy premium because I don’t have any life threatening or debilitating health conditions.

“Gimme some peace of mind. Show me the line to sign. Lot of money, honey but if I should live, ain’t gonna be worth a dime. What ain’t comin’ is all that cash. Those paper six figures get thrown in the trash. Nuthin’ ever lasts. Goin’, goin’ and gone so fast.

“I’m gonna live long as I can. Gonna live til there ain’t no policy left, til there ain’t no warranty left. The companies say, we won’t pay. We’re no liar, no pants on fire. Your policy is done and gonna expire!

“You just never know what’s next to go bad. Ya got them warranties? The refrigerator’s getting’ old, the oven could get cold. What about the TV? It’s only money, honey, you see. This is what we find. That’s the price we pay for peace of mind.”

Maybe I should write more songs. Yet, after reading this column again, maybe not.

Rich Strack can be reached at richiesadie11@gmail.com.