When will we learn we all live in a rut
Laughing and weeping, and giving out trust
Stretching our arms for something so meaningless
But important things, to trifles, I've found no difference
The air that we breathe, is the epitome
Of things subject to Polygamy
Between, bliss, survival, and moral
And there is no real balance for such things so foul
My unequivocal love lies in things I can hardly trust to exist
And I struggle to find where you fit
Moral?
Survival?
Or bliss?
Reality can be what we want it to be
Or not, that is the question
What is representation of existence,
No holds bounds, but we live no recollection
Of the truth
Of the trade
Of the answer to the equation
Of the time of day
It's meaningless, it's nothing
It's a thought pushed so far down in order to prevent us from driving ourselves mad
That in the future we've created we've made our own personal hell of ironclad
Welcome to the world, we call to our new borns
Don't worry, one day we'll all be less forlorn
But when does it start, and when does it end?
When does humanity stop screaming out about how we must be condemned
We're dead, they cried
And yet we're still very much alive
Due to never ending anguish of keeping awake
Oh how much longer must we wait?
Oh how much more can they take?
And thus ends this incident, strong in its might
So thank you to all, and to all a good morning, day, or night!
