Another day of not knowing
Not knowing what it's about or what to do
There's nothing to do
Is it just go outside and you'll find something to do
It appears we make the things to do
Life has been made so simple to survive
We create objectives that seem dubious in value
If we didn't accumulate things around us
We wouldn't have to think about them
Or do anything with them
So is it stare at the wall and see God
Is that simply another invention of what to do
What makes for happiness
I suppose most people find themselves in a need to produce
To accomplish basic necessities
The purchase of food and habitation
The education of children
So because these basic things don't cause me to be driven thoughtless
Bent on the animal instinct
Or befuddled with group concern
I can't die to the why that looms in my consciousness
Is it that I can't create
Or do I see the falling of making something of nothing
Because it is nothing
Maybe it's creator died
Man can have his needs so easily met
Because his superior intelligence has created efficiency
OK but what now
What does one who doesn't care do
And does he take steps to force himself to deal with the results of those steps
What's so great about beauty, nature
Sometimes feeling so physically good is depressing
If I don't do anything
It's all despair
And I want to die
Do I know too much or not enough
Going on and on and on and on beyond
Far beyond what is needed
Is that success
Why do I stay here and ask what for
If I don't want to do that
What is there to do