My soul's a heavy sleeper
And I take the path that's paved
I gather up the pipe dreams
And ambitions that I've saved

I send them up in smoke
Like the phantoms of my mind
Into the great horizon
Where nobody else can find

As men we are great instruments of discord and unrest
I subside to my cradle and I nurture from the breast
Of all who came before me and I hear their puerile cry
They feed me with a ladle as I let the world pass by