when all the laughter dies in sorrow
and the tears have risen to a flood
and all the wars have found a cause
in human wisdom and in blood.
do you think they’ll cry in sadness?
do you think the eye will blink?
do you think they’ll curse the madness?
do you even think… they’ll think?
when all the great galactic systems
sigh to a frozen halt in space,
do you think there’ll be a remnant of beauty
of the human race?
do you think there’ll be a vestige,
a sniffle, or a cosmic tear?
do you think, a greater thinking thing,
will give a damn…
that man was here?
(Canon, the Chicago’s first album, 1972)