Why does everyone talk so much And say those things And speak that way Worlds away And worlds that make no sense Like a shadow in a cave That you take to the grave Or some other fond notion Say, “Alas, Poor Yorick” Or some other somber something A petty comfort to those you do not know And those that don’t speak And those with lives beyond you And those who are More More More More And everyone has been more since antiquity And you are not the first and you will never be Be Be Be The last So just be be be be be be Until you can be no more Until you are a voice in someone else’s head Until you’re an idea of you in another just like you And the “you” you thought you were ceases to be