Am I talking? are you paying attention? Are these question to be asked Whe someone dies? Am I describing a picture that's Slowly fading And are we paling along these Fields of grey? The play goes on And my eyes will beam with gladness What can be done To fill the rigid rooms with movement? Have you been wrong To just stop breathing without cause? When all is gone Can I choose to follow you? What else can be done? You stare into the depth If there lies a ground if there was An eruption if it's too late You cry yourself pale you shine What can be done? The play goes on What brought us here? are we in need of help? Are we drunk enough to fit into the scheme? Am I steady? do I look consistent? Have we amassed enough insignificance? The play goes on