(play the fife lowly) i just cannot stop asking why, always why running and running wandering and wondering no matter how many years fly by screaming "who, what and when" like some crazed eight year old who needs to know everything in a world so filled with nothing running and running towards one ounce of proof things that will not crumble at the slightest touch you tell me who the hell i抦 gonna trust i can抰 stand looking at grown-ups never mind trust them loud and proud laughing at things that are not funny chewing happily on what is left of this cold, gray, flawed world i just gotta keep right on running away from it all towards tears born from lesson towards dreams instead of dollars half my age and stupidly brave 慶uz anything is better than lying in some comfortable deathbed staring into the abyss as afraid of living as i am of not living though one time i awoke and could still feel the cold steel of a sword that had been thrust into me
Bang the Drum Slowly