The know-it-alls know nothing,
I've seen it all before.
It's all too much for shallow minds,
Too frightened to explore.
The have-it-alls have nothing
Beyond this sacred time
The need-it-alls have wailing walls
Something better down the line
I could howl at the moon
I could rage at the dying light
I could tilt at windmills and scream inside
All through the crying desperate night
But what good would it do?
What good would it do?
We're just passing through
The want-it-alls are well controlled
The Philistines have won
Bought and sold for foolish gold
And blinded by the Sun
I'll versify and wonder why, till all the giants have gone
The poetry of simple love is all that carries on
I could howl at the moon
I could rage at the dying light
I could tilt at windmills and scream inside
All through the crying desperate night
But what good would it do?
What good would it do?
We're just passing through.

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