Ant Smith

This Life

You humans are weird

You humans are weird

I don't understand

How words are perceived

To be the essence of man

Such ephemeral things

Carried by wind

Cut and abuse and poison and sting

You humans are weird

With your swords and your pens

The former is cheered

The latter condemned

The physical world is make believe and pretend

Nothing is real until it's been penned

You humans are weird

What's it matter what's said?

I prefer booze in my belly

To words in my head.

This Life