"This Quarter-Century"

[ateolf]

Another turn around the star
So much empty space left behind us
I'd like to think there's some destination
But we've always made the same, long circle

There's no cause for celebration
Time does not mark the days
I'd like to think that my role matters
If significance can be obtained

Each day wakes the same disappointment
All these years and I've nothing to show
Each minute's wasted trying to forget
That I should've made the most of each minute

I'm in the same place I started
All these years and I've nothing to show
If I die tomorrow, it's all that you'll know:
All these years and I've nothing to show