carry on my wayward son
there'll be peace when you are done
lay your weary head to rest
don't you cry no more

once i rose above the noise and confusion
just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion
i was soaring ever higher
but i flew too high

though my eyes could see i still was a blind man
though my mind could think i still was a mad man
i hear the voices when I'm dreaming
i can hear them say

masquerading as a man with a reason
my charade is the event of the season
and if i claim to be a wise man, well
it surely means that i don't know

on a stormy sea of moving emotion
tossed about i'm like a ship on the ocean
i set a course for winds of fortune
but i hear the voices say

carry on my wayward son
there'll be peace when you are done
lay your weary head to rest
don't you cry no more