One View

 

I’m looking at my options, and they aren’t very good.

I’m looking at my options, and I don’t see what I should.

Time is going much to fast, and my soul is burning out.

I’ve tried to reconcile my past, and it makes me want to shout.

 

I’m looking at my options, and they aren’t very bright.

I’m looking at my options, and something just ain’t right.

I should be more in demand, higher on the collective scale.

I don’t understand it at all, being a white middle-class male.

 

I’m looking at my options, and they seem to be dwindling to a few.

I’m looking at my options, but I don’t see anything new.

I thought, as I grew older, things would multiply not divide.

Now it seems no one, not even time is on my side.

 

I’m looking at my options, and they are looking pretty grim.

I’m looking at my options, and now I’m out here on a limb.

The bough has broke, my soul is shook, and my heart is sinking fast.

The options I was hoping for are long since part of the past.

 

I’m looking at my options, but I know the truth you see.

I’m looking at my options, but they aren’t looking back at me.

Time has past, and I’m over the hill. Nothing will make time stand still.

The new kids are taking my place, and there is no way of saving face.

 

I’m looking at my options, and I haven’t got a one.

I’m looking at my options, but I’m not a rich man’s son.

So I’ll toil until I shuffle off this mortal coil, and my life be done.

This is a game we all must play, and one that can’t be won.

 

By R.A. Melos

Copyright 2003

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