NO ONE’S PICKING UP YOUR PHONE CALL, ETERNAL RECURRENCE
I only hope you’ll understand
there were moments when I lost my way,
misguided by want of a good time.
I am tired of returning over and over again.
I’m so tired of coming back to start again.
But, God, O God!, I’d have to do it all again!
For what would I be otherwise?
I’d have to bloody do it all again…
I was so careless with my love of music.
I was so careless with my love of love.
My heart would stumble, drunken sailor,
’round and ’round my stupid head.
Still I’d have to do it all again.
The only way it all makes sense
Is to do it all again.