Cynic

Hey comrade
What will it be like on the day that we face our mortal life
We're all given the misfortune of loss
But that's a gift we call impermanence

We don't own our work
We don't own the Earth at all

We're eternal Nunc Stans soldiers
The eternal warriors

We're accountants in the firm of life
Entrusted with a body, heart and mind
Hey comrade, did I love well?
Have I learned to live moment to moment?

We don't own our work
We don't own the Earth
We don't own our minds
We don't own anything at all

We're eternal Nunc Stans soldiers
The eternal warriors

It was not death
It was not life
It was love...