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Maybe the world has finally gone so wrong |
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it's taken all the pleasure out of being right |
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even ordinary things seem so far out of reach |
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that they are almost out of sight |
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so why propose worst case scenarios? |
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they seem to find ways to come true |
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we live in an imperfect world |
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that we must concede |
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and some things are impossible |
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take that as agreed |
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but getting some of what you want |
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and most of what you need? |
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perhaps, perhaps |
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Now that the endless march of bitterness has worn us out |
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it could be time to call a halt |
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sometimes even victims of injustice must admit |
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that something might have been their fault |
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all the same assigning all the blame |
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could take all the time in the world |
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and I don't have that kind of time, forever is a curse |
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and I don't want to be the ruler of the universe |
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but staying in a little world that won't get too much worse? |
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perhaps, perhaps. |
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"A world of our own" sounds so trite |
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but that's almost all right |
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the way I thought that it would be has vanished in the air |
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and most of it's impossible, and I don't really care |
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but reaching out for somebody who's actually there? |
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perhaps, perhaps. |
