Rooftop Thoughts

If we're born to die,
Then learn to fly,
Live to kill and,
Live for the thrill
Life on the edge
Of a high up windowsill,
Go learn, to fly.

If we're born to die,
What can we buy
To extend the lie,
Joy without consequence,
Freedom without sacrifice,
Happiness without, a price,
Love without ache, and strife.

But some, they get sick of it all,
So they throw in the towel,
And they take the pill,
As they sign their will.

The times, you gotta remind 'em
That you're still behind them.
The end is near, but it's still too far.
When all they see is their soul, to mar.

As they sit, and wilt,
Choking down water of life,
With bitter tears in the bar.
Walk outside, see the stars
Look down, stumble into the car,
And maybe, sometime later,
Flashing lights illuminate the tar.

They're looking deep and far,
For the burned out soul in the woods,
When they see where, all 23 of it, gone.
We'll say, 'Glory to God', 'Eternal Life',
And 'Rest in Peace', in response.
But all of it faux, blind,
From cold practice.

Go learn to fly, to fly. Just, fly.
But so far, and oh so far, to cease.