The River

8-Old Stuff

What the hell is the meaning of life?

Why is there so much pain?

I feel I'm trying to get a deep suntan

while I'm lying in the pouring rain.

I feel I've gotten so wasted I can barely talk

without ever touching a drug.

And then got so drunk and just passed out

but my lips never touched the jug.

I know that my life is like a river,

twisting, turning, and flowing.

Sometimes the taker, sometimes the giver,

sometimes coming and sometimes going.

But some of lives most beautiful banks

I'll never pass again.

And some of the river's slime and muck

can cause a lot of pain.

Now some may try to damn the river,

and some may pollute its waves.

And some may use its waters

for the flowers on their graves.

And many may turn away from the waters

like many turn away from me.

but all rivers are accepted eventually,

accepted by the sea.

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