When all the world seems to cry
aloud, “Why try? Why not die?”
and your ears have burned
in all those psalms you’ve learned
about right and wrong, heaven and hell,
and there’s only one option that seems well,
remember, too, of what rings true
hundreds of miles away on the telephone to you:
Fuck, fuck, fuck! my friend,
this can’t be the way it ends.
I know it’s all fucked
but let’s look at the better side of our luck.
Let’s take a moment to look at history in retrospect
and recall the shit we’ve lived through that we didn’t expect.
Let’s open our eyes, lift our disguise
and live another day as though we knew no other way.
It’s crazy how things will work out
when you let yourself get about
and the chaotic working of the mind
will creep up from behind to remind
that there are bigger plans for you and I
and though it’s sad that the best we can do is try
there’s little for us to do
but get along and get on through.
I’ve been there before,
hung my black cross upon a darkened door,
woke as though in a dream
and realized that I wasn’t what I seem;
my life the clearest white fog
the emptiness heavy as logs
weighing down the happiness of my life
until I can figure a way to cut it from my veins with a knife.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. my friend,
this isn’t the way it should end.
I know all life seems fucked
but there’re other ways to try our luck.
Let’s take a moment to honor those we respect,
who’ll sit by our side while inside we inspect
the health of our souls and the weight of our lies,
reaching deep until it’s really time we died.
11 Sept 06