one moment now

We get old so slow, it's 
intended as a mercy
so that as we go 
we get used and used 
to it.
But each moment, 
it strikes us so fast - 
looking back on our time,
in one moment now past

and we can't 
get used to that. 
And we can't 
get used to life, 
'cause we can't 
get used 
to bliss. 
And that's all we have 
to get through this. 

Well I have come 
from the afterlife to tell you 
there isn't one. It's just 
a small prank, called a lie, 
called a con. And it starts 
so long, 
but goes on so short, 
that we look up and find 
we've bought it each day 
as we build our fort 
and deepen our well. 
At the bottom of which 
our well-being feels sound 
as a bell that can't ring,
treading deep and dark waters 
without any swell 

and we can't 
get used to that. 
And we can't 
get used to life, 
'cause we can't 
get used 
to bliss. 
And that's all we have 
to get through this. 

As the bill of all goods 
comes slowly or suddenly due. 
We look back on the sunrises missed, 
and the morning dew left undrunk, 
unkissed, and all the undoing
unknowing of everything we
could have had 
of this 
within reach 
of everyday through. 

We strove with such urgency vain 
in a fuzz of the fuzzy and lossy 
mad logic of life, which all traces back 
to why 

because 

we can't.

Get used 
to this. And we can't 
get used to death. 
'Cause we know that this moment 
this one moment now
is all we had left 
all along 

we have blessed

as much
as anyone's blessed.