My Way

Epicurean theme to a never-ending sequence
Burns me out, dries me up
Up and out and through
My plans disappoint, drain my cup
Blind man sat in his room and he cried
"Tomorrow promised me triviality"
Bite the bait, swallow the hook
Hooked in routine instead of living
Wonder what's become of me

What's become of me?
What's become of me anyway?

I've been uncaring, unconcerned
Except at what comes dangerously close to
Overturning my house of cards
Falls fast and furious
Scattering shapes of well-worn self-conceit
Blind man shook his fist and he cried
"Surely those were my rights"
As if it were as bad as that
To be condemned to doing as thou wilt
Wilt and fade away
The kernel must first
So here I wait for You

I wait for you
I wait for you all the while