We rise to the occasion or sink into despair,
you either got creative juices or you lack creative flair
and I begin to wonder why
life's to do or to die
when the world will keep turnin'
and the sun will keep burnin'
it doesn't matter what you're earnin'
because the whole human race is yearnin'
for a change in the system,
and looking to the stars
for a milky way out of this place.
We only want to escape fate
but fate's a lot faster than us,
and so we build jet planes
upon which we plot the coordinates of our future
and fly into the sky,
trying to run from ourselves, but
only running into another self.
And we built boats so we could float
out upon the sea D E F G.
And we constructed language so we could pin down ideas
and wrap them in chains of correct talkin yo,
but sometimes you just gotta
stick it to the man oh man do I wish
I could shatter the glass house I’m sittin' in.
I tried one night to deposit my soul
in the bank of a river of dreams,
but things are not always how they seem.
I tried to paddle upstream
and I promised myself that I would make it
even if Niagara falls on me and brings me to my knees,
yet I would kneel in reverence
to the great power that this world has,
and I wouldn’t try to control it
because once upon a time there was a man
who tried to enslave those
who were more powerful than him,
and he didn't get too far
and when mother nature
is workin' the cotton gin
that you get drunk with every night,
you're predestined for a fight,
and there we go with the fate thing right?
What's left to choose
when no matter what, you lose?
For it is harder for a rich man to get into heaven
than for a camel to fit in the eye of a needle.
Here I am standing in the eye
of the squall of humanity,
wondering which way to go, and what to choose
and if I have a choice and I rejoice!
Because I’m thinking all this stuff
and I'm trying to pull a bluff,
and act like i know what I'm saying.
Instead, let's just say I’m praying
to the lord and tailor,
asking them to fabricate my soul
and garb me in robes of gray,
asking to live and die another day.
That I might think these things
is a symbol of my power.
Cogito ergo sum, I think therefore I am.
Watch my essence as it falls from my eye
in the form of a tear,
and tear open the sky
and flood the world with light,
or dark, or neither.
Either way it's just another life in the day
of the world's eternal pirouette,
dancing with the stars
and shedding slowly,
the evidence that we were ever here,
but leaving our smoldering ashes
strewn across the galaxy.
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