That others live life, too,
They face the same dilemmas and desires,
Basically as you,
If not in function then in their spirit,
And in their energy,
With regrets and about their past decisions,
And questions about all the facts they see,
Existence filled with more time thinking 'bout,
Existence than their life,
Tormented each minute by not knowing,
The future. Ain't that nice?
But that's not you?
Everyone's not the same?
Surely there's something that connects us all,
But what could it be if it's not the pain?
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