1: What’s the meaning of life?

2: That’s up to you.

1: But why would I ask if I already knew?

2: How could I tell you if it’s not up to me?

1: Well, I can’t just choose what my life’s gonna be.

2: Why not?

1: Why not? Well...how would I know?

2: Depends who you are, what you do, where you go.

1: But what’s it all about? What if it’s never clear?

2: But why must you know? You’re alive, you’re here.

1: Yeah, but why am I here? Do I even matter?

2: Do you want the truth? Your ideals may be shattered.

1: I want the truth.

2: Well then no, you don’t, and most never do.

Some are remembered, but most slip right through

The cracks of time, the memory sieve

We matter a little to some while we live…

But soon we are gone, and nothing remains.

1: We must be remembered! We can’t live in vain!

2: Do you even know your great-grandfather’s name?

1: …

2: Exactly. You see, that’s how fast

Our lives are forgotten, they’re soon far in the past.

And all of our actions, the people we meet,

The loves we have, the name of our street,

The laughter, the tears, the secret confessions,

The pain, the desire, the hidden obsessions,

The job, the money, the house and the car,

How beautiful she looked out under the stars,

The day we begin, the day that we end,

The name of our second grade best friend,

The lives that we live, the joy and the sorrow

Mean nothing at all to the world of tomorrow.