Life is but a passing lie,
Half-truths told until you die.
Every memory in your mind
Is just a fantasy of a special kind.
Memories, like life, are lies you have told,
A blanket of falsehoods against the cold.
My life of lies is a sad one, indeed.
I have been planted in rich soil, yet I am a bad seed.
My tears fall like rain on a flower,
Turning all my sweet times sour.
Have I chosen my own fate?
My happiness came a bit too late.
When I die, will my memory live on,
To be cherished by loved ones I have done wrong?
Or shall I merely cease to exist,
And by no one shall I be missed?
The time has come to say farewell,
And throw my coin of life into the wishing well.
For my life is full of wishes not granted,
And bitter deceit that can't be recanted.
But as I go on to a better place,
A smile is etched upon my face.
For I know my pain has come to an end.
I'm rounding out the final bend.
I have no more foolish tears to cry,
For I am ending my life of lies.