If the life you have created
Has buried you with luxuries out-dated
And you ask «What is the purpose?»
Too weak to claw your way up to the surface
You resent all of your trophies
They belittle human spirit
Like a timepiece
That is ticking
In your breast pocket
And so you long to reach in
And stop it
Then your heart
It will be broken
And every sour word that you have spoken
About everybody else
Will return to act upon yourself
If the life you have createdIs founded on jealousy and hatred
It’s too late
To ask questions
For you’re much too old to take any suggestions
It’s the life you have created
It’s the life you have created
It’s the life.
