The cup is not half empty as pessimists say.
As far as he sees; nothing's left in the cup.

A whole cup full of nothing for him to indulge,
since the voice of ambition has long since been shut up.

A singer ?
a writer ?
He's not dreaming of going no where.
He gave heed to nothing;
and all that he was is just a tragedy.

So he voyages in circles, succeeds getting nowhere...
...and submits to the substance that first got him there, there, there, THERE

In violent frustration;
he cries out to God - or just no one.
Is there a point to this madness ?
And all that he was is just a tragedy.

He feels alone
His heart in his hand;
He's alone.

He feels alone ;
I feel...

Then on that last day he breaks
and he stood tall
then he yelled,

...then he yelled


In violent frustration;
he cries out to God - or just no one.
Is there a point to this madness ?

And all that he was is just a tragedy.