I tried hard
to be some kind
of mystic
I ended up
a man in love
with himself
The more I look
the more I seem
to miss it
My poverty is
my only source
of wealth
It don’t run out
Do you know
where the music goes
to die?
I hear it’s where
your vision meets
your eye
Do you know
where the music goes
to die?
I hear it’s where
the question is
the answer why
I tried hard
to find some kind
of meaning
I ended up
a man in search
of himself
Am I standing
tall or am
I leaning?
Is there anyone
who can
even tell?
If so, won’t you call me out?
And do you know
where the music goes
to die?
I hear it’s where
your vision meets
your eye
Do you know
where the music goes
to die?
I hear it’s where
the question is
the answer why
