The Curmudgeon's Lament

And I was made for more than this,
The listless talk and drinking piss.
The excrement of daily life,
The need for me to find a wife.

I am deep in the machine,
I know not where I have been.
But I know where I'd like to go,
and there are things I'd like to know.

This daily driving towards a goal,
throws me deeper into a hole -
The hole, my grave, seems closer now,
but how to quit? I'm not sure how.

I had dreams once, and passions too;
So many things I'd hoped to do.
But in the meadow of my days
I found a job, one that pays.

And now I'm in the winter-time,
Each day a little more a mime,
A dollar earned is no relief
from travesty, and sad belief:

The wealth I sit on isn't grand,
And Death has clutched me in his hand.
He squeezes out the life from me,
And only now may my eyes see:

All is nothing, without heart,
With love, you learn this from the start.
So too with goals, they need some flame,
They need passion, don't be tame!

Don't back down from destiny,
Don't imprison stuff that's free!
Let thoughts and dreams and goals go wild,
Maintain the wonder of a child!

Let yourself do better than me,
I'm old and rich and unhappy.
I woke up from my dreams too soon,
my life became a thankless tune.

Create great music - live your dreams!
Before you're splitting at the seams.