One hundred square feet of nothing to do
Hundred square friends to do nothing with
Feeling the weight of changing the world
While we know everything
One hundred square feet of nothing to do
But lie supine and count complaints
I work all day, I think all night
I party between and I don't sleep until July
And I'm starting to think the world doesn't change
Just turns again and again
Moving in its elliptical game
And I just can't figure out how to play
I'm learning nothing new except how to hate
How to make excuses for being late
I worked hard and earned only pride
I worked just to drink on a Friday night
Freedom has proved to be only a snare to me
Stupid philosophy: "choose your own destiny."
I do what I don't want, I want what I don't have
And I hate what is good for me
Should me dreams never be, don't feel sorry
I'm tired of thinking
I'm tired of loving
I'm tired of feeling
I'm tired of wanting
Vanity of vanities
Nothing new, nothing to see
The wind blows and turns around
That which was will always be
In much wisdom is much grief
With knowledge cometh sorrow
All rivers run into the sea
Each day brings the sun
Dust returns just as it comes
Pleasure cures not longing
One will bring all to its place
The sun will bring each day