People on the high street:
Do they know they’re going to die?
That there is wisdom to be found
In knowing a short life?
Can’t sugar coat or Pepsi float the
Existential hum behind our eyes,
Immortal diamonds we may seek
But can you guess their rough disguise?
Last night I opened windows,
Heard a new born baby cry,
Choked music down a windy street
And again ole’ buzzing fly.
Can’t get set on a salvation
From up above or deep inside,
Still I carry my convictions
With a half-arsed, half-wit’s pride.
People on the high street:
Do we know when we will die?
That there is wisdom to be found
In knowing a short life?
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