Where do we go?
When it's over Sometimes I think I know
Sometimes I know I don't Does it matter?
I've been in my bed and in my head
Searching for the colors
But underneath these covers I can't find it
God,
everything seems random But everything seems planned
And
I don't know which way is open
God,
is it from some man's head?
Or from some big explosion?
The more that I am learning
It's all just life
and death
And everything
between
Surely it all
has some sort of meaning,
right?
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