"Eat, drink, and be merry
For tomorrow you shall die"
are the words I've heard
from time to time

I sit back and wonder
if living that kind of life
would make a man dead before he dies

For living a life of pleasure
holding no concern for tomorrow
Rips from a man what makes him live—

His dreams
The hunger to do more
All that he loves
The life he lives

All drowned by the wash of a drink
All forgotten by the sensual touch of destruction
Holding no regard for the day that follows

Worldly vices leave but two marks
Pleasures lasting for a night
And hope losing its candlelight
Without hope, man surely dies
For without hope, there's no desire
For what is man, with no desire
For who we are, is what we do

"Eat, drink, and be merry
For tomorrow you shall die"
are the words I've heard
from time to time

I sit back and wonder
if living that kind of life
would make a man dead before he dies