Sometimes I sit and wonder
If maybe everything is pointless
I ponder it now my head in my hands
If this world was designed to disappoint us.
All these nice bands that soon burn out
Little children you thought would be cute
But all they ever seem to do is pout
You date, you love, you celebrate
You break up, you cry, you hate, you mourn
And all the while.. All the while they all look at
You with that same old look full of nothing but scorn
You could die and they wouldn't even care
Not until you're in the grave and the mortician fixes
Your hair... But they're there for you now....
There for you now... But why would you care..?
Six feet under dead and gone so who...
Who ******* cares that they're even there?

- "Flower"