it's there in the beginning, and it gets him in the end
he thinks he's got the number, but it's coming round the bend
the chances are remotely, the chances are so slim
it's one in every million, the odds are looking dim
he walks an empty highway, a road not on the map
he's got no destination, they all ended in a trap
the future's looking dismal, the days are looking grim
it's one chance in a million, and even less for him
just another one wasted, and tomorrow will be the same
no one notices anything, and nobody speaks his name
autopilot's engaging, and the dog knows his way back home
same as it always is
is what it always was
was more once more
he wonders on the sidewalk, he daydreams in the street
he can't keep it together, no rhythm to his beat
the morning turns to evening, the evening into night
the darkness feels so empty, with no relief in sight
his house is in a muddle, his clothes in disarray
the phone calls go unanswered, telemarketers today
it's there in the beginning, and it gets him in the end
he thinks he's got the number, something's coming round the bend
he remembers a difference, on a day with a brighter dawn
he remembers a meaning, on a night when the light
was on homing beacon engaging, as he's finding his way back home
same as it always is
is what it always was
was more once more
