Z'man simchateinu

Qohelet dwells on our mortality
as Sukkhoth has us dwelling in a shack
because the finest things in life are free
but values drift perversely out of whack
the tabernacle built to God's own specs
sufficed to keep His presence in our midst
forced labor's yoke lay heavy on our necks
when Shlomo built his cedar edifice
rejoice! we're told; tomorow,we may die
the life we make here's as good as it gets
the cosmos isn't gonna justify
its ways to you, nor pay off your bad debts
for rich or poor, this phase is quickly done
the rat-race can be lost, but never won