Walk outside your house you could be a sitting duck
Man serves you with papers and says real nice good luck
In your car and here comes a deer flyin' cross the road
Or a man pulls up beside you and does what he's been told

Chorus- Is this it, is this the end
Is this my time, is this the end of the line
Is this it, I think I'm through
The joke's on me no more existential ennui

Walking in a field something falls from the sky
Walking up a hill you slip on a rock and slide
Then again it could be you going far today
Somebody had special plans and you were in the way

Chorus

This fragile edifice you've built just came crashing down
What seemed indestructible was razed without a sound
You think how blind was I? you thought you could control it all
Then the cane came, the waters rose up over the flood wall

Is this it, is this the end
Is this my time, is this the end of the line
Is this it, is that all there is
Is this my demise, part of some grand design

Puttin on my tux to dine with my wife and our friend Phil
We're feeling so smug and blessed in our mansion on the hill
Afterwards I look down, I see my arms are turning green
The TV is telling me there's been a large chemical spill

Is this it, is this the end
Is this my time, all part of some grand design
Is this it, well I think I'm through
The joke's on me, no more existential ennui

It's a cosmic joke - and the joke's on me
No existential ennui

Copyright: Downtown Music Publishing
Writer(s): B.R. Hornsby