Budapest

Is this the best it gets?

Budapest
Is this the best it gets,
Before I'm laid to rest?
When I am through the gates,
With old acquaintances,
Embroidering the truth.
Will stories be from pre-today,
Or from an archive yet to make?

Is this the best it gets?
How do I know.
The best it gets?
How do I know?

Disappointed, disillusioned, re-affirm my view,
We've all a story to sell,
We've all a lie that we tell,
And it goes on and on, and on and on.

Is this the best it gets?
Could be surprises yet.
When I become the subject of ancestors,
Faded photograph, no name.
A beacon or a burden,
Guiding light, helpful or plain insane.

Is this the best it gets?
How do I know.
The best it gets?
How do I know?

Disappointed, disillusioned, re-affirm my view,
We've all a story to sell,
We've all a lie that we tell,
And it goes on and on and on and on.

Is this the best it gets?

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