Perfect Reason

Copyright 1989 Daniel E. Biemer

He was just a poor boy but he had himself a dream
Through diligence and study he would find out everything
Talk about it, laugh about it, no one else would care
In a world of muddy thinking, he would be aware
 
Had no friends in high school 'cause he thought that they were dumb
Didn't go to football, and he didn't go to prom
Got sent home from woodshop 'cause he didn't have the knack
But somewhere in a dusty book he came upon a fact:
 
Using the light of his perfect reason, he could learn anything
Using the light of his perfect reason, he could know everything
 
So he went to college at a fancy place out east
Drank a lot of coffee and discussed philosophy
Talked about it, laughed about it, classes were a joke
Students there he thought were stupid, professors all such dopes
 
Using the light of his perfect reason, he could know everything
Using the light of his perfect reason, he could learn anything
 
But sometimes he got lonely there living his life on his own
And on Saturday nights he was trapped in his mind all alone
 
He pursued his studies with vigor and finesse
Careful observation and the educated guess
Talked about it, laughed about it, still he had a goal
Closer yet he came to knowing all there is to know
 
Using the light of his perfect reason, he could know everything
Using the light of his perfect reason, he could know anything
 
But sometimes he got lonely there living his life on his own
And on Saturday nights he was trapped in his mind all alone
And the break with himself and the others was getting so wide
It was likely he knew to continue the rest of his life
 
But he kept pressing onward and he held his head up high
Knew he might not make it but he knew he had to try
Talked about it, laughed about it, but he was closing fast
And soon the sum of human knowledge lay within his grasp
 
Using the light of his perfect reason, he could know everything
Using the light of his perfect reason, he could know anything
 
And finally after years and years of thinking he was there
He would've celebrated but he had no friends to care
Stood on corners preaching the futility of man
People gave him money but they didn't give a damn
 
And so as of this moment he continues to exist
Haunted by the feeling that there's something that he missed
Talks and laughs a lot but there is no one there to hear
Restlessly he walks the night and his only light is the light of his perfect reason.