Who can tell me why we're here?
Forever questioning our purpose.
A finite existence, trying to unfold,
an understanding dying to un-surface.
Questions, questions, that's all I seem to muster.
Exacerbating each possible solution.
Living, loving, and creating life
complexes any foregone conclusion.
If you left tomorrow, would it be complete?
A fleeting mystery purpose served.
Walking down a straight and narrow path,
clueless that it curved.
Complex questions and undeniable truths,
the age old question leaves its mark.
Why are we afraid to ask such things,
unless we're alone and in the dark?
Do you know where you are going?
Is your destination crystal clear?
Or do you nightly ask yourself,
“Who can tell me why we're here”?
Forever questioning our purpose.
A finite existence, trying to unfold,
an understanding dying to un-surface.
Questions, questions, that's all I seem to muster.
Exacerbating each possible solution.
Living, loving, and creating life
complexes any foregone conclusion.
If you left tomorrow, would it be complete?
A fleeting mystery purpose served.
Walking down a straight and narrow path,
clueless that it curved.
Complex questions and undeniable truths,
the age old question leaves its mark.
Why are we afraid to ask such things,
unless we're alone and in the dark?
Do you know where you are going?
Is your destination crystal clear?
Or do you nightly ask yourself,
“Who can tell me why we're here”?
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