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