I think of all the pain left in the world
and evil deeds done in the name of good.
Got no redemption.
It helps if you don’t think or feel.
There just won’t be another chance
and the days go unaware to whether
you count ‘em up, or count ‘em down
or disregard ‘em.
No, there is no orchestra,
but if you wanted to hear a trumpet,
then one will play on Judgement Day.
Where do you start when it gets so immense?
I want to feel bliss from something other than ignorance.
All part of the problem, part of the disease.
All guilty by small degrees.