Syrup in My Coffee

Lately, I've been feeling ...I don't know, a little distracted I guess,
where my face is unshaved, my eyesight is clear, but my hair's all a mess.
I wander, wondering about these times ...about endtimes and destinies and fate,
putting syrup in my coffee and wet egg on my plate.
The seasons still are changing, the leaves are falling, life is failing without fail
but i am stuck in a muck of my own making, no end to no known beginning on how to tell my tale. Are all the stories already written? Do we continue to read without knowing what we are reading until we come to the end of the book?
 Are we wandering in lustful wondering ...without realizing we need to cook?
Taste has no flavor now. We add herb and spice -and then add it twice
because how it will taste, we cannot tell.
Living life without responsibility, awaiting granny to ring that ole dinner bell.
...But i am responsible. At least, I have responsibilities. I go to work, i pay my dues,
I pay my taxes and all their fees.
The seasons, they still are a'changing, the snows will blow soon across the bow
but I am stuck in a muck of memory, ending my woe, though I don't know how.
I am simply thankful for my good health, for my wealth and my wife, my life,
for still having hair and my eyesight.
Sometimes, in a slip of mind, in my meandering I find I forget to finish what...