If we step back and see what a life amounts to,
We, who are so full of it, mostly now
In expectation, that to pause is to step back;
If we halt the trend and make as if to not live,
We, who witness death's statistic in the making
In other lives ended that discount our finality;
If we look beyond the fame and fortune, the future,
We, who find the present so disarming it's boring
In the kind of way that makes it 'wannabe';
If we encapsulate in one fine thought what it is
We live for, which can never be but arbitrary,
In the sort of way the truth becomes embarrassing;
If we take a grip, a grip that's quickly lost by slippage,
We, whose eye is distracted by a fluttering moth
In the chain drive of the requesting influence;
If we do that thing which we can never ever do,
We, who think we are capable of doing it at any time,
In truth performing a lesser act, and calling it a day;
If we cancel the if in those first lines, fulfilling each,
We, whose ability is enabled in no uncertain way,
In Jesus we act, in Jesus we live, and life is now.
