So stand the $#&@ up, show me that this life is worth living. Oh take this day and call it your own; this is your chance to redeem yourself. In a world where every single day counts, the cloke strickes twelve and I'm still in bed, staring at the veiling. Will I ever amount to anything? I will never know. Is there a purpose in this life to be fulfilled? Is there a way to make sense of a life that will one day end? Will anything I do be remembered? Will these words live to be read by the eyes of a new generation? I will be there for, for ou I will be there. Pick your $#&@ing self up and realise that one-day you will be a memory. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. So stand the $#&@ up, show me that this life is worth living. Oh take this day and call it your own; this is your chance to redeem yourself. I will never know.