The time is up, the clock's run out, I'm done.
The game is lost, but that's just fine, I swear
What had seemed vital standing in the sun,
At night is unimportant, I don't care.
So much time and energy invested
In a worthless, pointless scheme to win.
But I move on quite unmolested
And toss my hopes into the bin.
And yet the thought of vict'ry lingers,
Success still drifts just past my reach.
Whenever it comes near my fingers
I find that victory retreats.
I hunt, knowing I won't catch my hind;
to the chase I am resigned.
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