​A pig with a fiddle.

We look to the stars, through endless nights,
Hoping for them to shed some light.
Answer the unsolvable riddle,
What is life for?
Are we so little?

We talk to a man who lives in the sky,
Waiting on proof, or any reply.
What is our purpose; why are we here?
Is it for fun?
Please make it clear.

We celebrate traditions, spread far and old,
Keeping them up even when the weather’s cold.
There isn’t a reason nor a rhyme,
We do it to laugh,
Have a good time.

We ponder the world, the meaning of life.
Is there a point on the end of life’s knife?
Answer the unsolvable riddle,
What is life for?
It’s a pig with a fiddle.