How Are We To Exist?
So how are we to exist
Without the fiddler playing there?
I ask myself
And this question bangs broken drum
So how are we to exist
Without the pianist playing there?
I ask myself
And this question makes rotten children of us all
So how are we to exist
Without a trumpet playing there?
I ask myself
And I reason no judgement in honour of the vulture.
So how are we to exist?
Without the melodies which secrete our souls?
I ask myself
And the answer finds me deaf.