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He will shine through this dark age with reason,
And he will rise amongst his criticizing crowd.
With out economy squandering, and no place to go,
Don Quixote habitually told:
"You can't keep on tilting at windmills
And pursuing a dream that's been done."
Cause your helmet's a basin, and your maiden's a whore.
Stuck in Mancha, with Sancho Panza to please.
Every night there's a dream of a knight's chivalry,
Filled with giants and bullshit that makes us proceed.
In the end, we're alone,
And we all could use ourselves a hero.
So, his life stays eventful while they're so resentful,
His caballerismo is still skeptic-proof.
Until he regains sanity, vanity wins.
He's got nothing to lose. Naysayers say, aloof:
"You can't keep on tilting at windmills,
Nowadays you can only succeed
With a nine-to-five job and a 401k."
Give what they say another night's worth of sleep.