Lyric № 30893

Fact of the Matter

Member since 2002 · Posted 18 Dec 2002 · Edited 18 Dec 2002 · 4 comments

We come... Just as we go. We go... Just as we come... Into this cold, hard world And out of this cold, hard world. We are created from absolutely nothing. We end up as absolutely nothing. Rotting corpses, beneath the ground To be tossed around. By farming horses In coming ages. When no thought of us ever living Is existing. Our lives, meaningless As we have a sleep that is endless. Our only hope To somehow live on Never truly comes to trope As we disintegrate on and on. Born are millions And billions And they all cease to exist. As though never truly able to subsist But one just one achieves What all mankind heaves. To somehow live on To not be hunn. Like William Wallace And Draco Hollace. People to whom the hat is taken off even by the creator. That my friends is the . . . fact of the matter.

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mean 4.40 weighted 4.93 rank 9313 views 162 View voting details →

5 votes so far. Yours would make 6.5 votes so far

4 comments

[7] Caducus 19-Dec-02/4:38 AM Reply

Bravo Sir, this is vivid, started strong and ended strong, making a good use of a philosophy without pretentiosness -7-

[4] horus8 19-Dec-02/10:51 AM Reply

do you think if i blow-gunned anna nicole smith while she was holding court to her fucking lawyer and interior designer i could kill them all..i mean..you know with the right wind and timimg?

[8] Shuushin 7-Feb-04/9:09 AM Reply

Well, its on the edge of profundity (either slightly too far, or not far enough - can't decide). A few of the ryhmes and phrasings seemed forced to my ear though.

I'm thinking it could be just *slightly* distilled into something very powerful.

[n/a] -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. 7-Feb-04/9:34 AM Reply

Suffused with a quiet, monumental stupidity.