If life is more precious than death,
Then why do I wish it gone with every breath?
Could it be the repulsion I see in peoples' eyes?
The way their mouths just spill out lies?
If life really means so much,
Then where's the love we're supposed to clutch?
Bloods' worth more than money these days,
But when the money's all gone the blood still stays.
If life is priceless, then why do we cry?
Why is there pain and hurt when we die?
If anyone really loved us they'd help us live,
Instead its distress and destruction they give.
So it seems to me death means a lot.
Because nobody cares if you live or rot.
Weather life is sacred, or worth a dime,
Death is worth more every time.