like ships sailing in the night
why can't we just go where we might
intend, to break or bend, no burn
no end, just turn, turn, turn, and then
follow our paths, avoid God's wrath
despite these changing tides and snide
smiles underneath the surface of the crash
don't try and hide it, we all turn back
we all cry and dash away our tears
leaving our souls just a pile of-
forgetting our fears, forsaking the last
of us, ashes to ashes, dust to dust
who are the best of us? when is the past of us?