Thursday, April 10, 2014

More Songs (Again)

The End

“This is the end,” Jim proclaims:
“Break on through” from your usual games;
Good advice from a Door,
Since it’s not long before
The whole shithouse goes up in flames.

We Shall Be Released

Because we’re no smarter than yeast,
It turns out we’ll soon be deceased;
Being old makes one prepped
To more promptly accept:
Any day now, we shall be released.

All My Trials

Hush little baby, don’t cry,
You know mama was born to die;
Too late, humankind,
Too late, never mind:
All my trials soon be gone by.

If life were a thing you could buy,
The rich would live, poor folk would die;
But we’re all intertwined,
And all dead—never mind:
All my trials soon be gone by.

Staying Alive

You used to be sinful or mad
If you killed yourself ‘cause you were sad,
But life’s getting rougher:
To no longer suffer
Will turn out to be not that bad.

The Dream Is Over—What Can I Say?

“The dream is over
What can I say?”
    — John Lennon: "God"

Extinction’s the animal way:
Every species must reach its last day;
If you comprehend
That the dream’s at its end,
There’s not a whole lot left to say.

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