Here we are just specs of dust
Caught up in the confines of lust.
So small to make an impact,
Too big to see what we lack.
All we’ve got is this dirty floor,
That overlooks a beautiful shore.
Our eyes glaze over the never ending sea,
In which we’ve lost the key.

Yeah, here we are my heavenly host,
Shall we have a glass and say a toast?
To all the world’s lively beasts,
May you take your troubles east.

We will die, my friend.
That sea will be ours in our last breath.
We will come up with what it’s all about,
But we will already be out.
So, no, you won’t tell of your good fortune.
Instead you will grab that key,
And move to a place far better than here.