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.
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.
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.
Carry on.
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