How much of it really matters,
Since a bullet knows no class,
Everything will eventually shatter,
Be it a heart or a glass.
Xeroxed masses with their Gods to please
Spend their silly days,
The rest of us with ourselves to tease,
Are lost in our sane ways.
And on the darkest of mornings I often wonder,
Who the hell am I?
Am I the priest or the plunderer?
A creature of land or sky?
At night I sit down to remember,
All the things I have seen,
The promises of January and September,
And all that lies between.
Time has told me not to ask for more,
For many like me simply wait,
Some sink and some find the shore,
Some love and some hate.
But I want to change it all,
Just because I can,
Maybe I don’t want to rise or fall,
And certainly have no plan.
Too many things on my mind,
But this one thing I know,
All the lights may leave me blind,
But my heart won’t freeze in the snow.
And I was born to love magic,
And ride the highest wave,
Though I know my own life is tragic,
I have still got the world to save.
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