As people screech through life,
Their music hums through ears.
Time thins each moment that goes by,
And soon it disappears.
The music echoes for a while,
We scream to keep it long.
Our work, our knowledge,
And our time is all a fating song.
We sing, we scream, we even cry,
But no one cares after we die.
Life seems to only go quicker,
The dead a blink, a simple flicker.
Each song’s sung shorter, so unfair.
But memories don’t kill despair.
And so we screech,
We hum in others’ ears.
To make our music echo,
After our long gone years.
We sing, we scream, we even cry,
But no one cares after we die.
