No refuge.

Got enough to get by.
Don’t wanna stop where it’s almost right.
Can’t find the things I willingly left behind.
Are you still here? Don’t give me that pitying eyes.

What am I missing? Youth & the idiocy that was burning me alive?
The transgressions, the stares, the incomprehensibly oppressed.
One day I found a match, lit a fire, then danced in the moonlight.
Channelling the greatest, the freest of the spirits and of the mad.

When I came back, the chains were broken, no longer could tell me otherwise.
Hush now, hush, hush, we don’t talk about the things that are behind.
What have we been building on if not heaps of feel-good lies?

Time marches on, the drum beats along, our merry little band all drunk.
Care for a refill? What’s your poison? 9-5 or something strong?
Sell the care, sell the grace, all for a couple more days’ hand to mouth.
Don’t know why, but I think I will be fine with no refuge in sight.

The severity of life.

You can’t keep the scores or survey the land.
Nothing can help you, not even a mother’s hand.
Past tales drive fear into the heart of the wise.
One in a million, had it made, 20/20 hindsight.

Others perish with a slip of the hand.
Never stood a chance, never seen the light.
“Their own fault”, the judgement’s swift & raw.
It’s only natural to leave losers behind.

Do you have a light? Do you share it right?
Do you wait for the perfect time for it to ignite?
Running out of lanes, running out of time.
Never once should you forget the severity of life.