The desire to live is the messenger of death.
Longing to be happy is the outline of sorrow.
The world is an ocean of pain and of fear.
Despair and anxiety are always so near.
DREAM ON THE AMERICAN DREAM
We live in our dream worlds.
They last for some time.
These mental formations we all claim are mine.
At last when we sleep they pale out of sight.
And all we are left with is the dead of the night.
Money and power, sex, name and fame
They all go together to make up the game.
Dreams they do not reality make.
They're hollow and empty, their contents are fake.
The cars that we drive made of plastic and steel
Contain our self image asleep at the wheel.
The monster's released with the turn of a key
Then roars down the road singing, "Hey! Look at me."
We suffer delusions that cause separation.
Through pride and false ego we call it a nation.
We're so proud to live so that others can die
But the facts of the matter will make us all cry.
