if there's nothing left to die for

and if there's nothing left to die for
and all this our beauty is just decay
and if there's nothing left to die for
then you and me
let's go out going all the way

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why don't we just say fuck it all, try to forget what we'd be leaving behind, and pretend we never knew what it was like to have it so good? why don't we make believe there's no reason to stay, head off to the ocean and make love on the beach? can you tow the line with me? pull up anchor and cut my messy strings? can we get outta here and go someplace quiet where we can be alone with my head on your shoulder and your dreams in my heart? the place where the cosmos ends and forever is a millisecond in the collapsing time line of our closed-door shifts in the night time heat. can we find where the clouds touch the earth and lie in the rain, soaked to the bone with apathy and late fall sunrises? that kind that just peak through the fog and soggy earth.

can we pretend that we're the only ideas that matter, like the last two people on a post apocalyptic earth, clutching the universe in our tiny, unknown hands? make believe that wars, dogmas, hypocrisies, and civilizations exist only in our rhythmic breathing? what is there to keep us here if we tell ourselves to never look back? to not stop running? to watch the sky crash and the moon bleed and not fear? to tell ourselves we've got nothing left here? to believe that there's nothing left to die for.

let's go all the way.