Strange to know nothing, never to be sure
Of what is true or right or real,
But forced to qualify or so I feel,
Or Well, it does seem so:
Someone must know.
Strange to be ignorant of the way things work:
Their skill at finding what they need,
Their sense of shape, and punctual spread of seed,
And willingness to change;
Yes, it is strange,
Even to wear such knowledge- for our flesh
Surrounds us with its own decisions-
And yet spend all our life on imprecisions,
That when we start to die
have no idea why.
Other Philip Larkin songs:
all Philip Larkin songs all songs from 1964