The bronzed gods are leaving, the bikini girls are dressed; but the sea goes on forever,
Another round of trading has concluded to the west, leaving blood on the horizon,
And on a beach a million light years from the Earth, somebody wonders about intelligent life in the universe.

Well, maybe there isn't or maybe there is,
If this isn't living, I don't know what is.

On top of this mountain, on top of the world,
It's all the same; it never closes,
I walk through this desert,
I talk to myself, like some would-be American Moses,
Now I don't need to change the world tonight, but I'd sure like to know if it's too late to ever get it right.

Maybe it isn't or maybe it is,
If this isn't living, I don't know what is.

Well, maybe there isn't or maybe there is,
If this isn't living, I don't know what is.