I see you wear your lifestyle on your sleeve like a bloodstain from the war. And you don’t see just what you’ve got till the good things are out your door. And in classic style… you brave the miles and the fire within your soul… on a promise that the other side will find you to have grown.

But there’s a solitary man who spent a lifetime in the weeds… a passé sort of fate he’ll live to see. And if only just another round could keep his hopes alive… waitin’ for his big break to arrive.

So you work… you slave… you watch your days go slowly tickin’ by. You wallow in nostalgia wonder why you didn’t try… and the morning sun is up and starin’ right into your eyes. As you drive to work you squint and curse the years a flyin’ by.

But there’s a solitary man who’d give his left nut to succeed… a passé sort of fate he’ll live to see. And all the tea in China could not help him change his mind.. he’s waitin’ for his big break to arrive.

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There’s a chance you oughta take waitin’ right outside your door. But the world belongs to winners and you end up on the floor. In a broken kind of gait you stumble closer to your cave… in a flash of sight… you find you might be better off a slave.

But there’s a solitary soul who’s got the right stuff… he believes. A passé sort of fate he’ll live to see. It’s a shame to think of all the happiness he’s passed by… waitin’ for that big break to arrive.

Solitary man things are never what they seem… and in time you might see what love really means. But the solitary answer to the question that you bring… lay between the path you’ve chosen and your dreams.

It’s between the path you’ve chosen and your dreams.