Sympathy just doesn't mean that much to me.
Compassion's not the fashion in my mind.
And if you're looking for a shoulder to cry on,
Don't turn your head my way,
'Cause I'd rather have my music any day.
You and I are masters of our destiny.
We look for consolation all the time.
Until we find out things are not what they were meant to be… Oh no!
And if it doesn't suit our mood, we'll call it crime.
Dedication's not an obligation
Or a figment of
Someone's imagination.
It's the only way they say
To live from day to day
To make each passing way
A small sensation.
Dreams are the possession of
The simple man.
Reality the fantasy of youth.
But living is a problem that
Is common to us all
With love the only
Common road to truth.