Poor old Sisyphus, poor old us An uphill struggle, no one gives a toss So we get angry, drunk or lost Look at us, self pity times two Abstention for both me and you Nothing more terrible, nothing more true Forward I'll go on I'll push on Through all the trouble And I can only try And enjoy the struggle In this cosmic tragedy I could pen another threnody Of my remaining mortality This drama we become obsessed With the mechanics of our final breath Make the time left a living death Forward I'll go on I'll push on Through all the trouble And I can only try And enjoy the struggle