I'm tired, boss. Tired of being on the road, lonely as a sparrow in the rain. I'm tired of never having me a buddy to be with... to tell me where we's going to, coming from, or why. Mostly, I'm tired of people being ugly to each other. I'm tired of all the pain I feel and hear in the world... every day. There's too much of it. It's like pieces of glass in my head...all the time.
How tired i am! You would not believe how tired! All I want is affection. Some reassurance, or at least a kind glance.
I've been exhausted since ninth grade.
I know. He'd probably come with me, if I asked him. I think in his heart Frodo's still in love with the Shire. The woods... and fields... little rivers. I'm old, Gandalf! I know I don't look it, but I'm beginning to feel it in my heart. I feel thin! Sort of stretched like... butter, stretched over too much bread! I need a holiday! A very long holiday... And I don't expect I shall return. In fact I mean not to.
Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on.
So tell me when you're gonna let me in,
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin.
When you're tired and it's a long day and you're trying to get home you tend to feel all these little disconnects as the slow trajectory of a collapsing civilization.
Mon âme en est triste à la fin ;
Elle est triste enfin d’être lasse,
Elle est lasse enfin d’être en vain,
Elle est triste et lasse à la fin
Et j’attends vos mains sur ma face.