Everybody is dying to make it out of life unscathed, but the truth is humans are squishy, soft, and easily split open. Just a few inches of flesh keeps us all from spilling out onto the floor. Humans are the only species preoccupied with death, but why all the fuss, we’ll all soon be dust.
We are frail
So frail and weak
Our bodies fail
We’re all just meat
So easily scarred
So easily beat
It doesn’t take much
For us to spring a leak
It doesn’t take much
To perish in your sleep
We are soft
Soft and smooth
Just beef and sauce
Perfect for stew
So easily squashed
So easily bruised
It doesn’t take much
To strip us to the bone
It doesn’t take much
Work to make us croak
We’re all marching in the same parade
Biding our time in this fleeting masquerade
We’re all headed steadfast to the grave
Why all the fuss
We’ll all be dust
And soon you’ll spill your guts
Will you burn out or will you fade away
Will you die young or wither in old age
We’re all dying to make it out unscathed
Why all the fuss
We’ll all be dust
And soon you’ll spill your guts
We are doomed
From the start
Shrivel like prunes
Damaged and scarred
So easily strewn
So easily marred
It doesn’t take much
To tear us apart
It doesn’t take much
Force to stop our hearts
We are flawed
Prone to leak
Crumbling facades
Fraught with decease
So easily clawed
So easily freed
It doesn’t take much
Stress to make us crack
It doesn’t take much
Strength to break our backs
We’re all marching in the same parade
Biding our time in this fleeting masquerade
We’re all headed steadfast to the grave
Why all the fuss
We’ll all be dust
And soon you’ll spill your guts
Will you burn out or will you fade away
Will you die young or wither in old age
We’re all dying to make it out unscathed
Why all the fuss
We’ll all be dust
And soon you’ll spill your guts
A knife in the back from a friend
Or a bump on the head
A ruptured appendix
Or maybe a virus instead
A clot in your veins
Or a poisonous snake in the grass
A chest full of buckshot
Or maybe a slip in the bath
We’re all marching in the same parade
Biding our time in this fleeting masquerade
We’re all headed steadfast to the grave
Why all the fuss
We’ll all be dust
And soon you’ll spill your guts
Will you burn out or will you fade away
Will you die young or wither in old age
We’re all dying to make it out unscathed
Why all the fuss
We’ll all be dust
And soon you’ll spill your guts
~Lyrics By Curtis Rx
