A glass bubble

Maybe, and perhaps not...

Everything can happen, and everything cannot.

To wonder about such things is futile,

As futile as doing time, wasting away or walking a mile

We crave for what we cannot have and forget what we want

If you ask me: will I wonder off into the hills? I shan't, just because I can't

I've made liberty my goal, as so many have done before me,

Eventually some of that sticks to time, as we can evidently see

But it doesn't take great sight to see the peasants we originate from

The only significant difference between now and then is a very big bomb

But it's still the farmer that has his hands at the button

And perhaps, as soon as our dear corn prices drop, we'll be gone

Gone out in a great whirlwind of fire and debris,

Destruction all around as far as the eye can see...

Such is my vision, of what life could represent

And the only reason we are still who we are, is because no one can really understand.

The constant threat and the impending doom

Of the world ending in one great big boom

Because stocks went down, or the other side went to Pluto just a bit faster

In all honesty, such things can trigger disaster

Just like that, it's gone and we have nothing at all

Something that proves that we only live in a glass ball.

And the difference between glory and rubble

Is the tiny thin sides, of our precious glass bubble.