In such a short note,
Songs of life sung.
Where steps taken in mistake,
Given not even another chance.
When the crib is ready.
When the crib is ready.
Certainly another coffin too.
Then why the journey?
From one place to another,
Why grow old & live
In this misery.
Dig for happiness people say,
Or is it really - dig for your own grave?
No one is happy, no one is content.
All this dissatisfaction, all this for fun.
Oh, this painful journey.
Oh, this great illusion
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