If existence is madness, as I suggest
There is nothing like destiny or fate
In a world of choices, anger and jest
Our ideas, hopes, and dreams erased
As quickly as we live and finally rest
Life is absurd and a kind of whirlpool
In the aftermath, we've little to judge
In all of existence we seem to be the fool
We have nothing left when time ends
When the new generation thrives
The old generation is consumed
