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Window to the Abbey
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Something New Under the Sun
He keeps his belongings in perfect little piles
Defines his existence with monetary files
And curses missing buttons, the smallest little stain
And won't ally with sickness or feel the saddest pain
He's invested, with retirement in sight
With dreams of owning boat and ship that only sails at night
Shuffles through his day-to-day in perfect monotone
Blissfully unaware of a life he's never known
Until, he sees her
He cries, 'Oh I am, undone'
He finally found something new under the sun
He awakens in the morning now, forty years are gone
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Breathing in her absence in the bed he sleeps alone
And sets out two coffee cups with pomp and circumstance
He ritually still observes her absentminded dance(?)
He lifts his glass to her picture hanging on the wall
Swears he still hears her voice coming down the hall
He walks in the garden, pretends to love his day
He picks a flower for her and continues on his way
Until, he sees her
He cries, 'Oh I am, undone'
She was the only thing new under the sun
She was the only thing new under the sun
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