|
| |
Sewers To the Ocean
sometimes you gotta go through the sewers to reach the ocean,
to free the mind of rotten folk going on your lonesome,
shrugging off all what reeks and slowly bleeds your motion,
believing inside though the outside lives a world so loathsome.
Don't feel paralysed because you're not in paradise,
in life you hold the cards and you roll the dice,
and this means you're the peas and you are the rice,
grow through the rough times to glow through the nice.
If you know happiness then you do know trouble,
and you know the victory following the struggle
you know to go again even though you buckle,
climbing when in pain digging through the rubble.
Heeding all your errors an act strong and open
believing that the hope you hold's never lost or gone
wading through waste until pipes become beyond
travel to the beach of life where pipes end in the ocean
sometimes you gotta go through the sewers to reach the ocean
numb grinding confused in fright forever keeping motion
reaching for the destination to rebuild a life that's broken
life's a beach that's reachable through sewers and the ocean
Copyright ©
Nick Trim
|
|