Lyrics THAT WHICH IS NOT TO THE PURPOSE - Akira the Don , Seneca

Continue to act thus
My dear Lucilius
Set yourself free for your own sake

Gather and save your time
Which till lately has been forced from you
Or filched away or merely slipped from your hands
Make yourself believe the truth of my words—
That certain moments are torn from us
Some are gently removed
And that others glide beyond our reach
And that others glide beyond our reach
The most disgraceful kind of loss
Is due to carelessness
Furthermore, if you will pay
Close heed to the problem
You will find the largest portion of our life passes
While we are doing ill
A goodly share while we are doing nothing

And the whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose
The whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose
The whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose
The whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose

What man can you show me who places any value on his time
Who reckons the worth of each day
Who understands that he is dying daily?
For we're mistaken when we look forward to death
The major portion passed already
The years behind us are in death's hands
Therefore
Do as you write me that you are doing
Hold every hour in your grasp
Lay hold of today's task
And you will not need to depend
So much upon tomorrow's
While we are postponing
Life speeds by
Nothing, Lucilius, is ours
Except time
We were entrusted by nature
With the ownership of this single thing
So fleeting and slippery
Anyone who
Will can oust us from possession

And the whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose
The whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose
The whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose
The whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose

What fools these mortals be!
They allow the cheapest and most useless things
Which can easily be replaced
To be charged in the reckoning
After they've acquired them
Never regard themselves as in debt
When they have received some of that precious commodity—time!
And yet time
Is the one loan
Which even a grateful recipient cannot repay
You may desire to know how I
Who preach to you
So freely, am practicing
I confess frankly
My expense account balances
As you would expect from one who is free-handed
But careful
I cannot boast that I waste nothing
But I can at least tell you what I am wasting
And the cause and manner of the loss
I can give you the reasons why I am a poor man

And the whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose
The whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose
The whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose
The whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose

My situation, however
Is the same as that of many who're reduced to slender means
Through no fault of their own
Every one forgives them, but
No one comes to their rescue
What is the state of things, then?
It's this
I do not regard a man as poor
If the little which remains
Is enough for him
I advise you
However
To keep what's really yours
And you cannot begin too early
For, as our ancestors believed
It's too late to spare
When you reach the dregs of the cask
Of that which remains
At the bottom
The amount is slight
And the quality is vile
Farewell

And the whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose
The whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose
The whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose
The whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose

And the whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose
The whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose
The whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose
The whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose