There's an answer here,
That you'd like to find.
Doesn't really matter, though,
What you have in mind.

And even if the question's wrong,
The answer still remains the same.
And even though it's everywhere,
No one wants to speak its name.

Forever marching to the grave,
Half-paralysed by fear.
But if you look up in the sky,
You'll see a second sun appear.

Rejoice, I'm dead,
At last I'm free.

And there's no escaping it,
No matter what the preachers say.
You've really gotta find a way.

And sometimes
I can hold it in my hands,
And nearly have a word for it,
But then it slips away,
And soon we're gonna say

Rejoice, I'm dead,
At last I'm free.