Hating the Player, Hating the Game

Just look
At where we're coming from
And where we seem to be heading toward

Those lights
Well, are they flames?
Or are they lights sent to guide the way?
No way of knowing until we get to them
But when we then arrive
Perhaps we will burn
Or perhaps
Bathe in light

One thing
I can assure
Is that now
Today, we're blind
Lost, cold and afraid
Growing old and turning gray
Hating the player
Growing tired of the whole damn game

They say, "When you finally learn to live
Then, it's already too late"
So never get so far
So far so no good
No trace
No word
Grief
Joy
Lust
Pain
Tethered to this somber frame
Afraid and ashamed
Scared of the players
Disturbed by the whole damn game

There are a million songs
That we will never hear
Sights that
Sights that we'll never see
Kisses that we'll never share
It's do or don't
Or die
Eat
Sleep
Pray
Take our place amongst the graves
Like good little slaves
No longer a player
No longer a game