Its a hard life, waiting for rigor mortis
To set in and solve all the issues,
Praying the air-conditioning doesn't break
Down and that the water still flows from the tap.

The body's got its own priorities
Skin flaking off, sagging veins pumping
Feebly the blood indifferent to survival
But doing a decent job.

Mankind at each other's throats
Trying to prove something
That was long forgotten
Or learned in different times.

We're good at killing everything
Doesn't matter what or how
Squishing a beetle here, a flea there.
Such a hard life, all the waiting.