Perspective

Is this death, or a story that hasn't begun Do I have anything to fear from the death of the sun At the end of all things, when the world cracks beneath my feet Am I still gonna worry how to make ends meet I don't hate myself so much anymore Though I'm becoming a few things I have hated Am I finally finding peace with myself Or just becoming assimilated At the end of all things, when the world cracks beneath my feet Am I still gonna worry how to make ends meet