Anymore

I read some stranger's epitaph

Wept so hard I had to laugh

For reasons that I still can't grasp

Today

But now every day at eventide

I drink a glass of pesticide

I put metal clamps on my third eye

And pray

And I'll give you my confession, Lord

If I can be forgiven

Cause I keep waking up

Screaming on the floor

And I've come with great contrition

For these terrifying visions

'Cause I don't wanna know

The meaning anymore

And in the days before the picket lines

With pilot bread and altar wine

We'd watch the ships to pass

The time away

And in a time even earlier

When we thought those ships

They turned the earth

Well I'm starting to think that we were right

Those days

And our commanding statistician

He died of malnutrition

While planning out

The second civil war

But still they send me on fake missions

With real guns and ammunition

And I don't wanna know

The meaning anymore

Instead I grabbed my wife and children then

To hide up in hinterlands

Where everything is quietness

And gray

And in all its miracle and mystery

The awful truth's revealed to me

So I ask the grand authority

For grace

It's a kind of intuition

It's a terrible condition

That turns the world

Into a killing floor

And I'll trade this disposition

For a little land and superstition

'Cause I don't want to know

The meaning anymore