Personal Big Bang

You're waiting for your personal big bang
 Waiting for your personal big bang
 Contemplating what you want
 Hating what you've got
 Waiting for your personal big bang
 Is this a good day? How can you tell
 The girl in the stupid dress is wearing it well
 She's making her exit, she's leaving a scent
 of rainfall and corn flakes, of nights being spent
 You keep reading the paper, keep scanning the crowd
 All the while wondering what you're about
 and what is important, and whether you're real
 and where you are headed, and who's at the wheel
 You're waiting for your personal big bang
 Waiting for your personal big bang
 Contemplating what you want
 Hating what you've got
 Waiting for your personal big bang
 You feel like pretending even when you're not
 What makes people peaceful? What have they got?
 Maybe a novel, maybe a song
 but even the first lines come out all wrong
 Maybe be famous, maybe just hang
 Trying to make contact, but the phone never rang
 The movie was boring, the weather's a drag
 but the sun would change nothin', the heavens still sag
 You're waiting for your personal big bang
 Waiting for your personal big bang
 Contemplating what you want
 Hating what you've got
 Waiting for your personal big bang
 Waiting, dreaming, doing absolutely nothing