And the world on a string doesn't mean a thing. - Neil Young

See the lonely boy, out on the weekend,
Tryin' to make it pay.
Can't relate to joy, he tries to speak and
Can't begin to say.

Did you see them in the river?
They were there to wave to you.
Could you tell that the empty quiver,
Brown skinned Indian on the banks
That were crowded and narrow,
Held a broken arrow?

Where the eagle glides ascending
There's an ancient river bending
Through the timeless gorge of changes
Where sleeplessness awaits.