How much we can still resist
Before the absurd devour us?
Maybe we can still run dragging our coffins
Pretending to not know they carry our sins

How many times has the lie been banalized
In the service of comfort?
How many tears have you ever caused
As a consequence of your words?

Was just me who didn't hear
The imminent trumpets being blown?
Maybe we can still cry for the dying places we look
Carved by the consciousness that took

Was this the eternal we wanted?
Should we be feeling blessed?

And so you run and run in agony
As far as I can not see
Would give a beautiful photography
But it's time to surrender, Dorothy