Created out of pleasure and born out of a woman's pain
Many of us live our lives just for personal gain
Call it lust for life or call it what you may
Yet the clock on our lives it keeps ticking away.
They sang long live the king but the king he lay dead
In his silver casket with earth over his head
And with earth underneath and earth all around
He cannot hear them singing he is deaf to sound.
The heroes we have are mortals after all
To the scythe of the reaper like us they must fall
The president and monarch are not any different to you and to i
They are born like us for to grow old and die.
In moments of reflection brought on by self doubt
I often ask myself what life is about
I look in the mirror and i only see
The face of a gray haired mortal staring back at me.
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