Wombmatic Catacomb

Cannons to the left, cannons to the right,
Cannons to the front, cannons to the rear.
If the journey of Life only sailed so smoothly.
The Valley of Death holds such a dream.

Life is a wombmatic catacomb.
Bodies line the walls to the right, to the left.
Bodies line the ceilings high and low.
We travel these catacombs seeking
To never find the end of the tunnel.

Life is a wombmatic catacomb.
Guns fire from the walls to the right, to the left.
Guns fire from the ceilings high and low.
Friends, family and strangers young and old
Fall from Death's bullets and all its weapons.

Life is a wombmatic catacomb.
Birth surrounded by the fluids of Life and Death.
As we flow, we seek the meaning of it All.
The answer is as simple as the word One,
But though we can easily see it, we cannot.