Have you ever sat on a street corner
And watched the traffic fly?
Like a herd being led to the slaughter
Do they ever wonder why?
Are they trying to make something happen?
Or prevent it from happening still?
Are the people who push themselves hardest
Burried high on the highest hill?
And the more that they speed, to their end the road leads,
Yet they rush on without any clue
Do they do it for love, or love what they're doing,
Are they reaching for color or Russian Blue?
Is the goal worth the climb to reach life's richest cherry?
Why are the loveliest flowers in the cemetery?
If you take the time to smell all the roses,
True you may end up stung in the nose
Or get a rake in the ass from someone growing grass,
Are you not more important than those?
And do people who feel live the poorest,
Or the poor live with mostly regrets?
And can you tell me why we use our last goodbye,
To finally pay friends our respects?