Another musing on the meaning of life, grief, and death (and maybe the advantages of not knowing the meaning of life, grief, and death).
—–
Your body’s not you
It’s just an old shoe
Beat up and worn, it falls apart
Pleas tell me there’s more
A distant seashore
A lightening within my heartIn the end, who can say for sure?
Ignorance without hope of a cureIt’s been a year now
I still don’t know how
I can go on every day
I get out of bed
I say what I’ve said
It all just works out this wayIn the end, who can say for sure?
Ignorance without hope of a cureTake it day by day
Maybe it’s better this wayIs there nothing that’s whole?
Like your immortal soul?
I want to know if it’s complete
The skies are not clear
Maybe we’re not here
We look at clouds and see concreteIn the end, who can say for sure?
Ignorance without hope of a cureTake it day by day
Maybe it’s better this way
—–