The sign reads Forty
Keep going, keep going, it’s only forty
You’re allowed to go past any sign; it’s all up to you
Fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty. Don’t stop, they’re only signs
Then the signs get rusty, you can’t make anything out
You’re foot is frozen, you can’t press that gas paddle anymore
You have to stop; it’s no longer up to you
The road has come to an end
You’re forced out of the rotten car
The seen is different, you’re completely alone
You think: Maybe I should’ve stopped at the forty sign
Maybe I should’ve looked around, enjoyed the ride
What’s the point of all that cruising along?
If the road will end suddenly like that, was I wrong?
You don’t know, all you know, all you smell, is a different world
No roads, no signs, only thoughts
Powerful thoughts. Thoughts that can turn into things instantly
Where Am I? You shout desperately
No answer, keep shouting, I told you, it’s a world of thought!
Had you stopped earlier for that old man
Had you smelled that flower
Had you slowed down when you can
Had you noticed that peaceful tower
Things would have been different now; in the world of thought
Echoes from the good deeds would have become good thoughts
Would have flown you over that horrible valley, which you can see from a distance
Would have landed you in the Garden of Peace
Where nothing matters anymore. The land of endless joy
Had you stopped at the forty sign!