well there’s where you are. and there’s the other side. and the distance between is no great divide. there’s you and her. and the other guy. and what happens next comes down to what you decide. well there’s what you want. and what you’ve got. and a whole lot of stuff. that you forgot. it’s not as bad as it seems. it’s just the distance between. and love can pick you up. and life can bring you down. there’s no point hanging round. think where you’re going. not where you’ve been. and stop worrying about the distance between. always looking through my fingers. still the search for happiness goes on. still the confusion lingers. scared of where it’s coming up from. thinking i should move along. still the search for happiness goes on. still i’m getting everything wrong. still the search for happiness goes on. saying sorry doesn’t make it better. just stick to the weather. you’ll talk about it when i’m gone. still the search for happiness goes on. still the dream is slowly fading. and the quest. and all the talents. for which i long. still the search for happiness goes on. give thanks for a cloudy day of mellowness and take a long breath. the ageing artist has just passed the mid-point between birth and death. and with a certain sadness wonders when the grim years of fame will come. and with the fleshpots and sun spots and black dogs of youth undone. the days of decay and arthritis have begun. can still tell what the time is without looking at the sun. less levity. more gravity. no stomach left for depravity. ready to meet the future bold and red. but unlikely to ever again. wake in someone else’s bed. can’t beat the heat and insects and dust. smoke if you’ve got them. sweat if you must. retreat to the coast and see out the day. return in the cool. like you were never away. can’t take the wait and the time on your own. do what you have to. there’s always the phone. look for a rhythm. look for a song. don’t look for the reason. it went wrong.