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They say that these are not the best of times, |
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But they're the only times I've ever known, |
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And I believe there is a time for meditation in cathedrals of our own. |
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Now I have seen that sad surrender in my lover's eyes, |
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And I can only stand apart and sympathize. |
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For we are always what our situations hand us... |
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It's either sadness or euphoria. |
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And so we argue and we compromise, |
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and realize that nothing's ever changed, |
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For all our mutual experience, our separate conclusions are the same. |
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Now we are forced to recognize our inhumanity, |
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Our reason co-exists with our insanity. |
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And though we choose between reality and madness... |
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It's either sadness or euphoria. |
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How thoughtlessly we dissipate our energies |
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Perhaps we don't fulfill each other's fantasies. |
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And so we'll stand upon the ledges of our lives, |
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With our respective similarities... |
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It's either sadness or euphoria. |
