I drive along the highway
where the big fancy houses stand
I wonder who lives in them and how
they can afford this, such a grand
life and all its living there
on the hill with the electronic gate
what have they done differently than I?
I can't help but to contemplate.

They say that everyone has the same chances
to become whatever their hearts desire
but then I think why build it all
when it could be taken by a fire
a split second could change everything
life is so short, we sometimes forget
people say that you must have a plan
and end up saying "are we happy yet?"

A plan is as good as a puzzle
that is scattered about on the kitchen table
and it's life that steps in with distractions
to push it to the side with an "unfinished" label.

When I was 17, I left home on a bus
with one suitcase and a twenty dollar bill
along with a heartful of dreams that died
but 15 years later, I'm here still
and I still have passion though I lost love
I still have dreams, though different now
so who says you have to have a plan
to plot the why, where, what, and how?

It seems to me that one never really knows
and just when he thinks he does
it all evolves into something else and
he's back to square one where he once was

asking if we're happy yet.