Billions of years of nonexistence led to this

Lean into the suck.

With control, anything could be possible Anything except the light at the end of the tunnel Which we rush forward to meet with open arms If you listen very carefully you'll hear the footsteps of time marching on A forced march, time has nowhere else to go It does not make sense or belong elsewhere Much like me Truth and consequence don't need to be lovers, but they still meet up frequently to have rough sex And the broken condom (which is, let's be real, not due to any manufacturing defect) Typically, has produced an heir - Let's name her "Subjectivity" Raised in the minds of the captive audience To the level of Nobility, now throwing that cape of darkness over one shoulder Pause here if it doesn't add up We let you play catch-up Because movement perplexingly occurs as a unit There are no fragments, Subjectively If we should ever collectively stoop to grab a corner of what is And shake it as though it were a dusty rug We might feel something akin to understanding That billions of years of nonexistence led to this While the only thing to truly look forward to are billions of years more Where nothing can happen So truly, make every moment you have count Leave no shred of doubt That intelligence was not simply shown a good time behind the bleachers Before being chaperoned back to the bus And driven home