The Beginning
A final song to sing
Life is getting hard
Not a thing you can do
Day dreaming
Thinking of what tomorrow may bring you
One more song to sing
Voice of an asylum forager
Choice to become a cultural voyager
Pictures are taken
But perfection is split and edited
I move mountains if I could
But that state of mind is not understood
The price you pay
For having a small paradise in hell
Like loving a widower
An Achilles with a sense of compassion
Minus the expense and lashings
Was going to sell my bed to pay rent
Some of us appreciate the absence of zero
But no one truly admires a fictional hero
If all A is B and all B is C
but doesn’t equal something
Then C is the unsound value of nothing
An outcast because I have a sense of morals
A list of things to do, plural
Only in triumph
Will you find a cure for your fall
Hitting walls in my mind
Did you forget you were human
Brush your hair away from your eyes
For god doesn’t cry
Poets getting scarce
I’m starting to paint
Portraits of where you are
I’m beginning to faint
Repent
Ask your lord for help
No Mercy
He’s not listening to you
Enjoy your final breath
Are you worthy
The worlds a fast place
But you’re in no hurry
I’m alone
No tomorrow
To reach for
And I miss you
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