THE QUESTION

Sometimes we ask questions,
But don’t always learn a lesson.
Sometimes those questions lead us down a stranger’s road,
And then we’re only left with what we think we know.

There was a child sometime in ’98;
He didn’t wanna die and he was scared of the wait.
His mother told him, “Son, you’ve still got a lot of life left to do.
You’ve gotta go school, you’ve gotta find love,
You’ve gotta have kids, and then they’ve gotta have some”

But this didn’t sit well.
He didn’t like what he’d heard,
And when he thought of it today
He still hated those words.

There was sweat on his brow.
Who upon him looked down?
Was it nothing at all,
Or a man all around?

Sometimes we ask these questions,
But don’t always learn a lesson.
Sometimes those questions lead us down a stranger’s road,
And then we’re only left with what we think we know.

And what you think you know will take away all hope
And then you’ll get to the end of the road looking down on all those souls.
Those souls belong to the people that you love,
The lovers that may go above,
And you just let ’em go.
Just let ’em go.

Sometimes they may ask questions,
But won’t always learn a lesson.
Sometimes their questions lead ’em down a stranger’s road,
And then they’re only left with what they think they know.

There was a man aged to 28;
He knew someday he’d die and knew it could wait.
His child told him, “Dad, I don’t wanna die when I’m old.”
And the man looked to his son and said something we can all hold:
“Son,” he said, “you’ve gotta know that’s the best time to go.”

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