The Soul In the Den

Back in my hole in the back of the den racking up souls with every heart that I spend Laughing at those birdies floating far far away half in astral detentions known to scar and fillet Compacted in thy dirt, I’m comfortable in failure It’s only after that I’ll hurt, for during I’m the sailor mapping out tides I’ll avoid any turn crashing into the same bridges that I’ve already burned Back then my den was smaller and included facts to save myself from the loneliness precluding any ambition to pursue the wildest dream or any mission of love, unrealistic though they may seem They fashioned for me a reason to keep myself trapped wholly deep thinking I needed the key Some intangible force to unlock my own life Some box of remorse I deserved from that wife Soon I’ll dig myself out from this den I’ll reclaim my soul and fill my heart with it again