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