At 29 he thought he’d seen the best years of his life slip by,   With nothing left impending but unending discontent,   And though relentlessly the morning sun would always shine,   He never seemed to feel the warming light flow from his blinds.      His flesh remained, and though he though his figure lacked a sturdy frame,   From the outside looking in his heart was filled of gold   Like the hull beneath the sloop, whose freedom had been tamed   And lost beyond recovery, beneath the raging waves      And all of this time, he was waiting for life   To unwind from its reel, and catch something worthwhile   But his eyes were itching, and they left him probing      To find his way, climbing out of dusk and toward the dawn,   To spend his days, wondering if he should just let go,   Should he just let go (Would you make it through?)      And in the midst, of all the boredom he’d endured he bought a gift,   For each new prize, he kept aside   And with each step, he’d reach for the next ledge   But while catching his breath, he’d unearth more distress   Cause the earth would shake him, and hound him senseless      To find his way, climbing out of dusk and toward the dawn,   To spend his days, wondering if he should just let go,   Should he just let go (Would you make it through?)      He wanted more than he could, ever appreciate so   Live your life in the world around you,   Don’t live in the world around your life