lately i've been wondering where it really is. i've found the answer, and quite simply it is i've got to stop asking "what ifs" and just live live live. because i'm not going to find it if i'm looking for it, i'm not going to find it in a new pair of shoes, in the glove box of a new car, i'm not going to find my dream, my destiny, nor anything if i'm goddamn searching so hard for it, i've got to let it sit, let the world give, but in the meantime i'll just live.
"No, and it ain't in the rumors people're tellin' you
And it ain't in the pimple-lotion people are sellin' you
And it ain't in no cardboard-box house
Or down any movie star's blouse
And you can't find it on the golf course
And Uncle Remus can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain't in the cream puff hair-do or cotton candy clothes
And it ain't in the dime store dummies or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake voices
That come knockin' and tappin' in Christmas wrappin'
Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute and look at my skin
Look at my skin shine, look at my skin glow
Look at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry
When you can't even sense if they got any insides
These people so pretty in their ribbons and bows
No you'll not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made out-a paper mache."
Excerpt from Last Thoughts On Woody Guthrie, Bob Dylan.