As I sit and watch, as I so often do,
I see the world go by.
How can it go by so many times,
Yet never seem to pass?
It is still spring, as it has been
So many times before.
For the world is old, and always new.
The contradiction that is life.
Always existing, always creating, always destroying,
And being again.
And as I sit and watch, I see the world go by.
And as I dream, it seems,
That time has passed me by.
And so I sit,
And watch once more