I don't want to cry today.
Been fighting it.
But I look for something real
In a world that's not.
And that's a formula for tears.
We don't have anything when we’re born?
We don't have anything when we die?
But is it the truth that
We don't have anything, ever?
Not even our hopes or fears?
Well, turn on world.
Turn on them.
Just as you've turned on me.
Grind out of us the few precious minerals
We think that we possess.
With eyes too blurred to see
The motionless foundations of eternity,
And the myth of days, and years,
And the brotherhood of all humanity,
Been fighting it.
But I look for something real
In a world that's not.
And that's a formula for tears.
We don't have anything when we’re born?
We don't have anything when we die?
But is it the truth that
We don't have anything, ever?
Not even our hopes or fears?
Well, turn on world.
Turn on them.
Just as you've turned on me.
Grind out of us the few precious minerals
We think that we possess.
With eyes too blurred to see
The motionless foundations of eternity,
And the myth of days, and years,
And the brotherhood of all humanity,
Then, grind us on into backwardness.
-jenn long
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