§trange Love

The Fear of Death is §trange 
Living things die everyday 
Are we A11 not the same? 

That birthday cake we bake goes to 
The same place as the steak we eat 
Can't tell a difference in the End 
 
So why do we always try to Pretend 
That, somehow, Evil is only my End 
When really Death is the only Way 
One can send Love to another Man?