this silver platter world

handing out its song and dance

says subjective obsolescence

is the right of all humans

condemned human race dancing

to their hormonal tunes

which change according to food intake

and tides changed by the moon

try it you may not like it trade it in come tomorrow

for the main objective in this life

is to be devoid of sorrow

buy it if you can or steal it if you must

and look into the mirror

if you need someone you can trust



and we can say things didn't work out

til we say things don't work out



you can say things don't work out

i say it's people who don't

guided by fear of all commitment

we can run but we're still owned

by all our petty fears and desires we'll never satisfy

on our sick beds with question marks

in our heads as we die

god has shown us what is right

and what there is to care for

but we're in a hall of mirrors darkly

uncaring to find the door

words like sin redemption and trust

hit our ears irrelevantly

condemning ourselves to no hiding place

in the time of missed glory



to God we'll say things didn't work out

and God will say shut up and get out