by Jerry Ratch
No matter what you may discover
Or come to believe during the drinking life
The question still remains:
What if everyone was an accident?
But still, while time may appear
To be nearing its own end
And the sun seems to be getting
Larger and larger every morning
As it swerves over the horizon
I think we'll all be all right —
I think we'll all be all right…
As long as Schrodinger's cat
Doesn't start chasing
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