Nothing is for certain, no, nothing is for sure
and the heaven I once dreamt of, I don't want it anymore
Impossible to know
what happens in the dark.
Impossible to show:
is Love the head or heart?
Like ships that sail on clouds and sea
can we view what isn't there?
If you do not know, you cannot see
but stand with vacant stares.
Burnt and bloody, bruised and beat;
you can't melt ice without the heat.
Ashes to ashes neat in the tray;
hard to live above the fray.
It could be here, it could be there:
you cannot know without the sight--
you really could be anywhere
when shrouded by the night.
Peaked behind the curtain, not heaven, it was Oz
And now I know for certain: Hell's where we belong.