Row, Row, Row

Row, row, row your boat,

Gently down the stream.

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,

Life is but a dream.

We all know it. It's especially effective as a round. I woke up this morning with this song in my head. Maybe I was dreaming about it. The last lyric is intriguing. Mr. Rogers performed another version of the song on his show one time:

Propel, propel, propel your craft,

Unforcefully down the liquid solution.

Ecstatically, ecstatically, ecstatically, ecstatically,

Existence is merely an illusion.

This confirms something I had long suspected - Mr. Rogers is crazy. So, what is this song really about? A quaint round promoting diligence in the face of life's challenges or an angst-ridden existential nightmare? Do we toil against the universal burden that what we do may not matter? Or do we stare nihlistically into the void between life and otherwise? Does The Matrix, as the 90s tale suggests, have us?

Whatever it is, I won't be getting to sleep very easily tonight if this is still in my head. And Mr. Rogers is crazy.