Sometimes I wonder
In the far blue yonder
Trying to disembowel this tragedy
Of this dead body society
Content with this purgatory
And picking petals off the morning glory
Saying she loves me, she loves me not
Looking for a place to park in an empty lot
Falling uphill
The future lies within an ancient will
Predetermination
Causing a lack of motivation
If everything is planned and known
What's the point of giving them a show
What's the point of writing this word
If it will never be heard
By few more than family or close friend
Just to know I carried my inhibitions till the end
Wanting to let go and be care free
But here we are stuck here in this antiquitous tragedy