What’s the point and where’s the purpose -
Writing things won’t make them happen.
The stories on the TV set
Are someone else’s version
Of a life we’ll never live or know.

Why keep pressing on when there’s no map
And all the street signs are in Latin.
Satisfaction can’t be gained
When they won’t let you finish
Any project your own way.

Who saw where the pathway turned
And didn’t take the time to tell us.
The hand that mans the tiller is not mine.
I spend my time below the decks now
Ever longing just to see the stars.
ljm