Prelude Of Purpose
Can we have life without a purpose?
by Doc Biskind
Or is there something there to stop us?
Office jobs that make us slobs and stomachs blob
That do or die makes us want to say goodbye
To everything that creates a why
And God will have a smile on his face
As we headless chickens start the race
Machines calculate our current state of torrid hate
Of our gripes and moans and groans
That we must obtain our treasured loans
Oh Lord! Where's the purpose if theses things only hurt us
But then we turn, to our philosophers
Who shuffle in and out of corridors
And will they figure out the idea of purpose or the purpose of ideas?
Wait! Stop this silly circus!
What if life's the purpose!