Song For The Living

i have a life with no beginning, a beginning with no end

for me it’s always been such a clear little picture

a very simple thing to comprehend

but i smell trouble in the afterlife, i’ve seen advance copies of the script

and according to the friends that i’ve got in higher places

there’s a chance we may be slightly ill-equipped

some of you have bad reputations, i can point to the people in the crowd

and identify the faces and bring you to the places

where the bodies have been buried in the ground

tell me what’s been going on inside that door

it seems we’ve been put into this position before 

why is there a dead man lying on the floor?  

what makes them keep coming back?  

what makes them keep coming back for more?  

who’s been is sleeping in the graveyard? is this the past speaking in code?

or the exhilarating thrill of staring down your mortal enemy? 

this is where the river meets the road

here’s a song for the living – let’s hope you lived with no regret 

and here’s a promise to my family, friend and enemies – 

you ain’t seen nothing yet

this is when we step into the kill zone 

and see it all come back to bite us in the face

then be fondly looking back but for amusement purpose only 

to be sure our hearts are in their proper place

no one ever sees it coming, it just creeps up is what they say

like a hitman in the bushes by the patio, all quiet ’til the bullets start to spray

here’s a prayer for the dying, for those who know there’s not much left

but humans in survival mode are notoriously desperate animals 

and of course they may be planning one last theft

why can’t people see how simple science is 

some easy permutations and simple facts

it’s all so perspicuous, the reason for existence 

and the way it boils down to random chance

your schedule won’t be getting any softer 

you might not find a way to make another stance

but it’s possible to grab some things that life still has to offer 

consider maybe taking one last dance

if they’re dumping your body in a drainage ditch 

and ask if you have any final words to say

wait for dramatic delay, then obligatory cliche 

tell em’ riding high in april, shot down in may

don’t ask for forgiveness, ask to relive this 

and be thankful if you enjoyed your little stay

no one ever see’s it coming, it just creeps up is what they say

like a hitman in the bushes by the patio 

all quiet ’til the bullets start to spray

no one ever sees it coming (in this world no one sees it coming)

it just creeps up is what they say (it just creeps up is what they say)

like hitman in the bushes in the shadows by the patio 

all quiet ’til the bullets start to spray

like a hitman hidden in the shadows by the patio 

all quiet ’til the bullets start to spray