The Goal

I can't leave my house Or answer the phone I'm going down again But I'm not alone Settling at last Accounts of the soul This for the trash That paid in full As for the fall, it began long ago Can't stop the rain Can't stop the snow I sit in my chair I look at the street The neighbor returns My smile of defeat I move with the leaves I shine with the chrome I'm almost alive I'm almost at home No one to follow And nothing to teach Except that the goal Falls short of the reach