Four white walls, half way up the tallest tower;
We’ll eat pasta from the pot and brave through many cold showers.
This life that we have chosen is not easy; not a lot.
Our friends and family all seem to think we’ve lost the plot.
Are we crazy?
Are we brave?
Are we on our way to an early grave?
I don’t care how or when I die,
Just as long as I know, we gave it a try.
I’d rather brave the winter nights, sleeping in the streets,
Than lose another minuet of you time; put this on repeat.

When will my good fortune end?
When can I say I’m no longer on the mend?
Life comes and goes as we come round the bend;
We ship ourselves across a world we cannot comprehend.

Who is the wisdom maker? Who turns around the clock?
Who has become the reason that my heart will never stop?
This world poisons good men and makes them rise just to flop.
I climbed my way into the city so I could climb up to the top.

Every waking hour, we find more of us to lose.
The choices that we make are not ours to choose.
Sit in the dark, eat tortilla chips and listen to the blues,
With the silent blur behind me of the 11 o’clock news.

These trees that grow around us, are more than I can keep.
I will find my way beyond this but I won’t make my way to sleep.


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