We know for sure
That fame tends to lure
One quits being pure
And loses the nerve
The world turns obscure,
Smiles fade and are fewer
There is no cure,
Yet larger the curve
The sun goes on shining
Sweet babies keep whining
Life span is so tiny,
But nobody counts
We drown in money,
This race gets us running
So clumsy and funny
Are these weary rounds
Trespassing, atoning
For dead heroes mourning
Like bugs, we’ve been droning
Still thirsty for lust
Tithe, offerings paying
In misery staying
While full-time praying
In God we all trust
Creating, destroying
In faith stronger growing
Through oceans rowing
Unable to fast
Forgetting, recalling
For us bells are tolling
Like snakes, further crawling
Away from dim past…