Empty song

EMPTY

He's the man known to everyone-a man of the world, he's called
For the money he works hard, toils with all his might
With neither holidays nor holy days to mind
So immersed and obsessed in bettering his lot
He'd stop at nothing, even cheat, bribe, or con,
Pull strings, if not pull the trigger on anyone
To make the most of everything he lays his hands
On and on he goes, eyeing profit for his every stride



Then, after every good deal he closes, he'd travel,
To wine and dine at the lushest of brasseries
Don the finest of wardrobes and jewelries
Ride the fanciest of cars, yachts, jets or what have you
And, as though these weren't enough,he'd revel
Twist and dirty-dance to the tune of whoremongery
Get high and bungee-jump down to the fit of perversity
Quench the most prurient urges of his hedonic psyche


But, then, one daybreak, at the end of his wild partying
Just before the arteries of his all-used-up body would erupt
In tipsiness, he glanced at what's left of the cognac of his hands
And saw for the first time his life for what it really was
Beyond the distorted reflection of his face on the glass
The sound of his laughter was different this time
When he said with bitter tears 'round his eyes,
"This empty bottle is my life! This empty, wasted bottle is my...."


No sooner had it finished saying this line this than his stone-cold heart gave in
His weight the crashed on the floor, braking his spine and limbs
And so there he laid, all alone, helplessly wondering what had hit him
As he excruciatingly bid goodbye to all that he had sweat blood for
Regretting, albeit too late, not having found life's true worth