The act of love . . . is a confession. Selfishness screams aloud, vanity shows off, or else true generosity reveals itself.
Albert Camus
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Going Nowhere
Hate the way that you've taken back
Everything you've given to me
And the way that you'd always say
It's nothing to do with me
Different versions of many men
Come before you came
All their questions was similar
The answers just the same
I'm gonna get me a motor car
Maybe a Jaguar maybe a plane or a day of fame
I'm gonna be a millionaire so can you take me there
want to be wild 'cause my life's so tame
Here am I, going nowhere on a train
Here am I, growing older in the rain
Hey hey hey hey
Hate the way that you've taken back
Everything you've given to me
Any way that you always say
It's nothing to do with me
Different versions of many men
Come before you came
All their questions was similar
The answers just the same
I'm gonna get me a motor car
Maybe a Jaguar maybe a plane or a day of fame
I'm gonna be a millionaire so can you take me there
want to be wild 'cause my life's so same
Here am I, going nowhere on a train
Here am I, growing older in the rain
Here am I, going nowhere on a train
Here am I, getting lost and lonely sad and only
Why sometimes does my life feel so tame ?
Hey hey hey hey