Dead Man Talking
Life's little ironies
Life's little absurdities
Life's little tragedies;
I'm free of overrated existence,
of ironies and absurdities and tragedies;
And would I never care about the bullets
Freedom would be, you tell, free,
And would I never care about the masters
Would it matter they get heads bulging from their arses?
And would I never care about the fear of dying,
Riverside crematoriums, bullet-riddled bodies--riddled morgues,
Would I never care about life again.
The only thing I'm missing is my soul.
Life was uncertain, but not anymore now;
In death lies the eternal end of the world,
The end of any past stupidity
The beginning of perpetuity
It is unimaginably long and lasting, my friend.