Enough

The line was at the corner once.

You reached the corner. It had moved.

The line was at the better job,

the bigger rooms, the view.

You've hit every mark they painted

and arrived at none of them —

because arrival's not the product.

The chase is what they sell.

And the line will move forever,

'cause somebody's paid to move it —

Enough. (enough)

It's not a number, it's a decision,

and nobody sells decisions —

that's why you've never seen it stocked.

Plant your own line. Stand at it.

Enough.

I've watched men cross their twentieth line

still hungry as their first,

eyes already out past it

to the next receding paint.

And I've met a man with one small field

who stopped, and looked around,

and said the richest sentence

I've heard a mouth produce.

And the line will move forever,

'cause somebody's paid to move it —

Enough. (enough)

It's the one word the whole racket

prays you never learn to say

like you mean the word.

Plant your own line. Stand at it.

Enough.

He said: "This is what I wanted.

I noticed when I got it.

That's the entire trick."

Then he put the kettle on.

Enough. (enough)

It's not a number, it's a decision,

and here's what rich is, finally —

strike it in stone above the door:

rich is anyone who stopped.

Enough. (enough)

Enough.