The Meaning of Life

I looked into the meaning of life and all that stuff
and what I found was most of it is just a lot of puff.
Just people who pontificate and carry on a treat;
the buggers are just everywhere, if you’ll sit at their feet.
They’ll tell you of life’s meaning and how you’re meant to be
and how they’ll make life better once your bank account they see.
They’ll speak to so gently and in all the coolest ways
and promise you true happiness until the end of days.
And even after that they’ll paint your picture with white wings
and you sitting on a cloud while an Angel chorus sings.
But really it sounds shallow compared to the here and now
So I’ll stay here and live my life; I have to anyhow.
‘Cos my feet are planted firmly to this place where I stand
and I just don’t feel like moving to some cloud-filled land.
Not even if there’s Angels and Gods and harps and all
I think I might just stay here on the ground where I can’t fall.

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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