Creatures of Habit Why has every man since the days of old ate, drank, and gambled for pieces of gold? Why has every man since the ancient times searched, claimed, and fought for whatever he could find? Maybe we’re all just creatures of habit; surely, we’re all just creatures of habit. Why does the lonely man lead a lonely life: eat, drink, and labour deep into the night? How can the rich man live so fancy free, knowing he’s no different than you or me? Maybe we’re all just creatures of habit; surely, we’re all just creatures of habit. Is this just the way we are, or is it how how we’ve chosen to be? Every day, and every word we say, is who we are, have been, and will be. Could it be that future man will walk the ancient road: laugh, sing, and quarrel as in the days of old? Or will future man walk an unknown path to live a civil life in a civil world at last? Ah, but we’re all just creatures of habit: surely, we’re all just creatures of habit.