Days All the Same
Embracing Monotony: A Journey Through Unseen Beauty
Lyrics
In leaving, he took a look out,
In leaving, he observed his surroundings.
Wet streets, now he's down the stairwell,
The streets are wet as he descends a stairwell.
The path on which he's travelled so much.
Reflecting on the familiar path he has often traveled.
Familiarity's within his clutch.
He holds onto the comfort of the known.
The breeze cuts into his raincoat,
The wind pierces through his raincoat.
Sidewalk moves below his feet slow.
His pace is slow on the moving sidewalk.
Keeps walking in a private haze,
He walks in a private, introspective state.
Faces pass, never break his gaze.
Ignoring the passing faces, maintaining focus.
He ambles with a fanciful thought,
Strolling with imaginative thoughts.
An outing of cackles enticed by a single thought.
Amused by a single thought, laughter ensues.
He enters the usual café,
He frequents a familiar café.
Drinks a cup and is on his way.
Drinks a cup and continues his journey.
But he's not headed for a lively space,
Not seeking a lively environment.
He's well content with his own place.
Content with his own space.
What others see as a horrible shame,
Others view his routine negatively.
The fact that his days are all the same.
Accepting that his days are predictable.
Somewhere people own a habit
People may have habits but deny them.
But deny any proof they have it.
He observes others hiding their routines.
Somewhere he'll sit parading his thoughts,
He sits, lost in his thoughts, ignoring the crowd.
Past a crowd of clowns waving like robots.
People around him seem robotic, like clowns.
His world in order and locked from inside,
His world is ordered and secured.
The pull-tab key is safe in his pocket.
He carries a key, keeping his inner self protected.
But he's not headed for a lively place,
Not seeking a vibrant place.
He's well content with his own space.
Happy with his own solitude.
What others see as a terrible shame,
Others criticize his routine.
The fact that his days are all the same.
He embraces the consistency of his days.
He ambles with a fanciful thought,
Strolling with fanciful thoughts.
And familiarity is all he's got.
Familiarity is his only companion.
In leaving, he took a look out,
Leaving, he glances outside again.
Wet streets, now he's down the stairwell,
Descending wet stairs once more.
The path on which he's travelled so much,
Revisiting the well-trodden path.
Familiarity's within his clutch.
Familiarity remains with him.
But he's not headed for a lively space,
Not seeking a lively environment.
He's well content with his own place.
Content with his own space.
What others see as a horrible shame,
Others criticize his routine.
His mind's made up in any case.
He is resolute in his choices.
What others see as a terrible shame,
Others criticize his routine.
He's well content with his own place.
He finds contentment in his chosen lifestyle.
What others see as a horrible shame,
Others criticize his routine.
The fact is he'll never change.
He remains unchanged in his ways.
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