According to the preacher
We spend our lives chasing the wind
The circle of life is not
The strong devouring the weak
It’s each of us devouring himself
Never getting full
But getting ever emptier
We spend our lives becoming
Enormous windbags
Work, it does a body good
Building it up so there’s
More to rot away after
Our balloon has popped
The wind knocked out of us
Without empty chests
We could have no life
Food that fills leaves us
Pooped but wanting more
And drink makes us think
We have ascended but
We fall and cannot get up
Always leave room inside
To swallow the whirlwind
You know all about wisdom
Get as much as you can
And you learn you know
Less than you ever did
An empty space in your head
Empty your mind because
The answer is blowing in the wind
Add numbers to your age
If you live to be old and ripe
You just begin to rot away
Spread your sails when you are
Young and not blown yet
Save your breath and it will
Be wind beneath angels’ wings
That sucking sound we make
When we sob with sorrow
That is us catching the wind
The only thing we should
Be filled with in this life
It is only when we are truly empty
That the wind of the spirit blows in
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