"maybe i'll go traveling for a year
finding myself, or start a career.
could work the poor, though i'm hungry for fame, we all seem so different but we're just the same.
maybe i'll go to the gym, so i don't get fat,
aren't things more easy with a tight six pack?
who knows the answers, who do you trust?
i can't even separate love from lust.
maybe i'll move back home and pay off my loans,
working nine to five, answering phones.
but don't make me live for Friday nights,
drinking eight pints and getting in fights.
maybe i'll just fall in love, that could solve it all.
philosophers say that that's enough,
but there surely must be more.
love ain't the answer, nor is work. the truth eludes me so much it hurts."
