You have the world before you
with the rich golden haze of fortune...

"I live on the edge;
buy bread and don't even check...

Used to be the burning questions
were about the meaning of life...

When the world conspires
that you succeed with only...

I lay here next to you
with death between us...

Fortune is god's way of teasing us
giving the illusion of happiness...

Stumps from drought
scar the park...

Never let a day
go by without at least once...

Trees that dot the landscape
prove that men may die alone...

Still I seek resurrection
from mold of Christmas...

What can I say to you
that has not been rendered...

It always starts the same:
I find myself in a resort hotel...