Of long days and short evenings

Well I'll tell you a story of whiskey and mystics and men

And about the believers, and how the whole thing began

It's been long since I got me a drink. Since I had a chance to lean back and post.  Work keeps me busy. The commute gets me tired.

First there were women and children obeying the moon
Then daylight brought wisdom and fever and sickness too soon

The first few weeks, even months were a fun cruise. I was pampered. "We need fresh blood, new brains like yours' " they said. Then the as the months started becoming bigger fractions of a year, the work piled on. There were accolades plenty, and brickbats afew.

You can try to remind me instead of the other you can
You can help to insure that we all insecure our command

If you don't give a listen I won't try to tell your new hand
This is it can't you see that we all have our end in the band.

Things worked. And well at that. Hardwork gets rewarded, but also makes errors costlier. "You should know better", "you should have seen that coming". It works man, it always works. Just gotta coax it.

And if all of the teachers and preachers of wealth were arraigned
We could see quite a future for me in the literal sands

People evolve from bosses to mentors to bosses. Faces change, the unsteady walls of a cubicle stay the same. The sticky notes start falling off, positions on the conference tables change. It's a game of musical chairs. Winners have a lot of fun.

And if all of the people could claim to inspect such regret
Well we'd have no forgiveness forgetfulness faithful remorse
So I tell you I tell you I tell you we must send away
We must try to find a new answer instead of a way

People like complaining. They believe they have it oh-so-bad. They hate their jobs, the employers just don't get them. They listen to that Billy Joel song and swear he's singing about their loneliness. But I say, every year is the best year of my life. I have a drink in my hand, and a smile on my face. The bottom is oh-so-faraway...