The Fact is We’re all dying,

And it’s funny to me.

Cause’

Nobody ever really knows their own notes,

Everybody Walking the Streets Daily,

In This sort of sound beat feigning

existence trying always to speak back,

Like a Ghost trying to sing or Be,

A Melody only sung on Memory Ave.

But I guess,

Only an Audience member has clarity,

When you watch the actors pretend about.

Subjective they the eyes gleam,

This fractal’d Truth in part.

But then I knew fully,

Like the reflection in a mirror,

That I had never Lived’ Truly.

Nor Composed Thy own Beauty,

In safety’s retreat of others human nature.

All the while I now know’ the Fact is,

We’re all Dying’ & we’re all Lying’

Constant Masked silence.

Why are you in such a hurry?

Don’t you think?…

We’re all Dying’ & we’re all Lying’?

Don’t You Think That’s Funny?

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