The two worlds of our life,
Close together, yet so far apart;
Entwined in deathly embrace
The moment we walked in the door.
Two worlds of disparate equalities
Of truth, lies, hope and delusion
Where the glory and the sheen
Are as real as unshed tear-drops.
Worlds that are manifestations
Of a single basic reality;
Yet so alarmingly alienated
Depending on your vantage point.
But then what is the reality
Cruel cut-throat competition;
Or the soul-search for truth
In Hendrix's flaming guitar?
But then can we really answer,
Is it really possible to know;
Whether the psychedelic Floyd
Can drown out fits of failure?
Who would heed the questions
Asked on grass past midnight;
When smoky curtains lend lucidity
And thoughts run wild and free?
But wait, heed not the ramble
It's all a purely passing phase
For it's hard to be bothered
When you live on instant noodles
But hold on still, take a care,
Many a revolution were lead
And won, on half empty tea-cups
And a fag dangling on the lips.
So there may still be a chance
That we seek Paradise City
A dream, a new world Utopia,
Not to be found but built.
Who knows, may be we have a lot
Or may be have nothing at all
Or is it just that after all,
We have left passion behind?
May be there is no need to worry
And all our tensions unfounded;
All this be but mere illusions
Revealed from the world outside.
The world outside appears a desert
Yet all we do is keep checking
If the grass in the inner world
Is greener on the other side.
It's into this death-dealing desert
We will soon have to walk out to
Once we have finally taken our pick
On whichever shackles we fancy
Lives will be lived on schedule
Days will be governed by rules;
Eight-to-eight, or maybe all-nighters,
Or whichever is the new nine-to-five.
The seed of rebellion lays dormant
Rarely stirring with the life-force,
No longer nourished in this world
While we keep walking to our graves.
We go round in endless circles
Searching for our own self,
In the maze we like to call
The two worlds of our life.
Close together, yet so far apart;
Entwined in deathly embrace
The moment we walked in the door.
Two worlds of disparate equalities
Of truth, lies, hope and delusion
Where the glory and the sheen
Are as real as unshed tear-drops.
Worlds that are manifestations
Of a single basic reality;
Yet so alarmingly alienated
Depending on your vantage point.
But then what is the reality
Cruel cut-throat competition;
Or the soul-search for truth
In Hendrix's flaming guitar?
But then can we really answer,
Is it really possible to know;
Whether the psychedelic Floyd
Can drown out fits of failure?
Who would heed the questions
Asked on grass past midnight;
When smoky curtains lend lucidity
And thoughts run wild and free?
But wait, heed not the ramble
It's all a purely passing phase
For it's hard to be bothered
When you live on instant noodles
But hold on still, take a care,
Many a revolution were lead
And won, on half empty tea-cups
And a fag dangling on the lips.
So there may still be a chance
That we seek Paradise City
A dream, a new world Utopia,
Not to be found but built.
Who knows, may be we have a lot
Or may be have nothing at all
Or is it just that after all,
We have left passion behind?
May be there is no need to worry
And all our tensions unfounded;
All this be but mere illusions
Revealed from the world outside.
The world outside appears a desert
Yet all we do is keep checking
If the grass in the inner world
Is greener on the other side.
It's into this death-dealing desert
We will soon have to walk out to
Once we have finally taken our pick
On whichever shackles we fancy
Lives will be lived on schedule
Days will be governed by rules;
Eight-to-eight, or maybe all-nighters,
Or whichever is the new nine-to-five.
The seed of rebellion lays dormant
Rarely stirring with the life-force,
No longer nourished in this world
While we keep walking to our graves.
We go round in endless circles
Searching for our own self,
In the maze we like to call
The two worlds of our life.
