For the doubtful gift of life They demand thanks. For a gift which you really Couldn’t do anything about. That’s life, ladies and gentlemen, Begins typically with stench and Screaming. That’s if someone needs a quick mark, A small betrayal and crying in the park. That’s the way it is and will remain And an army of bodies, Races through history in sumptuous Clothes. The man from Nazareth forgave us While on the cross. For who, for us? I could cry.