Forget the unforgotten dreams, it's over now. Hush babe, hush. Listen to the song on the wind close those aching eyes and lift that rusty voice and sing along. Sing. Let out all of yesterday, pour that heart into the wind and let the pain just blow away.
Dissolution, fading softly into nonexistence. Who is the writer behind these words? Find truth. A weak echo in the basement of long locked off memory. No luck? Fall into a role, slip on that costume. Pull down the mask and walk on, walk on. Walk out? Already heading down the hall. Lucky to have the life fallen into, walk away? Maybe...maybe another day.
It's the same old story written to a different rhyme. Love so simple and pure has fallen on a rusty nail. Ah the snags in life. Another problem created by the faulty psychology of over thinking and underachieving. Potential spoils and rots before passive eyes. Take action! Forever the spectator? Then loose this mind to the mob. Choose. No regrets, the creator of one's own consequence, don't complain.
Answer me! Who, what, when, where, why, and HOW? A heavy sigh, and we move back to square one again. Fear is the beast of burden, you know? Fear sends you running, fear makes you hide, and fear...fear makes you stay.
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