• I sat on the world today
    sat on it and watched it fall away
    and it seemed to me
    that the only thing that was strict company

    truly came to be was age
    so I sat there
    unmoving; eyes like angry loss, hoping forever
    that'd someone turn by me, and pick up the forgotten
    piece of history that gave the world its nickname

    people put to shame
    why would you try and be something else?
    Stay in the in crowd--
    it'd look good as a whole
    dust settled over years
    yes we move, but is it real?

    There's only things set in stone that we can truly draw hope from
    because if you don't care, then no one else will, right?
    I flew to the place where everything made sense
    flew there on the tears of a thousand lonely souls

    You need to stop chasing dreams that were meant for someone else;
    ignorance is bliss, then knowledge is suffering
    I'd rather suffer than pirouette through life not knowing what the real picture is

    that everyone tends to ignore
    a museum set in utter suffering, and every picture is worth a thousand words
    but the artist knows best, since their life was spent slaving over a mere hint of frustration,
    and knowing this all too well,
    they continued, spilling their weary hearts into something that years laugh at,
    and people admire for mere seconds.

    That's the meaning of life;
    that's why we've lost our time
    not because we whine and mourn
    but because too few those had adorned

    the sky means a beautiful thing;
    but if we only stare at the ground forever,
    how can you pour your heart into the sky?
    It'd be easy as living through death
    and death through living

    so march up all you tired souls
    and tell me what you've spent your life with
    every waking second, and what you believe the future will truly hold
    and then, and only then can I smile and bow to you all
    who know the same suffering as the artist
    whose paintings lie in hallways only the wise watch
    and how we already know the meaning of life

    just no one really cares to look for
    so word to the wise, if they still live among us;
    today is here, and will always be, as it has
    but don't throw it away when there's so much more to be done
    in the grand scape of it all.

    The artists sigh with defeat when they look over their life, all their pain and frustration,
    and how it was all etched and scarred with the help of one stick of wood,
    one pot full of tears,
    one thoughtful mind that knew what it was doing.

    Bow down, bow down
    and tell me you haven't gotten this already.
    So one last thing...

    are you ready?