I guess it always seemed to me that things would always last
And possibly that’s the only way to appreciate the past
I always believed that the schoolboy dreams I held as true
Were my perfect reflection of everything I thought was you
The smell of life adores me as a touch of cloth reminds
That my lost feelings of remembrance are payment in kind.
The marathon of life has but barely crossed the line, as I
question the shoes I’m wearing and whether they’re mine.
I know the life I’m living and the cross I choose to bear,
But the salt with which it soothes my wounds is clear and always there.
I never choose the path I walked but knew the road was still
And pointed a direction which humbled my free will.
A good party’s a collection of people who try to be at one,
Forgetting who's the birthday boy, who’s the prodigal son.
I will always love the thing that rests upon my painted brow
And the symbolism of that beast, the way and the how.
That somehow everything we feel is real and from above
Not some earthly creation like formaldehyde love.