It

It is not wealth To have more than others It is not peace When others are in pain It perched there coiling light Though that many years ago I remember the feeling like it was today A strange feeling like a living memory Like a weird kind of stranja-vu or something I want to know, I want to know How can it stop when there's nowhere to go? It is not victory To murder thousands in battle It is not health To take vitamins and excercise Then what's even stranger is the moment it left The memory feeling, it grew very dim And we all were in disagreement about what we had seen And Trevor said, "If you've seen it, it just dropped you off" I want to know, I want to know Where was it from? And where did it go? All it's life, wandering All of mine, wondering It is neither animated nor unanimated Vegetable nor machine, real nor unreal It exists as 'It', in fact we can't even be sure of that And there it is, a strange group memory I want to know, I want to know How can it stop when there's nowhere to go? I want to know, I want to know Where was it from? And where did it go?