Oh well, oh well, oh well

I might be a product of an afterlife I can't recall
a living mess of flesh that's been here for a while
I feel I've been wandering in and out of lives
looking for answers and never getting it right
I might be a product of lesson I was taught
a long time ago when I was a man or maybe a dog
I feel like I've kept some advice close to heart
trying to teach others and trying to live right
but I'm not cutting it all the time
I'm faltering and falling most times
meeting people that waste my time
loving souls that end up hurting mine...
oh well, I say, oh well
I'm no one and everyone,
oh well, oh well, oh well
nothing and everything might matter one day
but we're all here and no one cares so
oh well, oh well, oh well
caring selfish souls running dreaming screaming
love me, hate me, get away from my face
I'm me, who am I, I don't want to die, help me
doesn't matter, be careful what you say,
words mean nothing, don't speak unless you have something to say
oh well, oh well, oh well
oh well, oh well, oh well
I might be a product of an afterlife I can't recall
but, oh well, oh well, it doesn't matter after all

~Jenn