Your brain cells are carefully packed
And your thoughts are all chemical rhythms
But the all of it all is intact
And your thoughts are the light from its prism.
And it’s fine to observe your own brain
And pretend that you’re breathing your breath
‘Cause the all of it all will remain
When the ego dissolves upon death.
And though physically you will decay
Like some meat that was left on the shelf
There was never a ‘you’ that could stay
‘Cause the real you goes on of itself.
‘Cause the real you goes on of itself.
