| Stiff as hell. |
| Fade to black. |
| Blackness swells. |
| Forgetting never felt so
|
| Good. |
| Yeah, remembering only as a reference. |
| Today is gauged by how
|
| Unhappy I am not. |
| I can still hear what’s going on back there and I don’t
|
| Care. |
| One would struggle to find some kind of peace of mind but I
|
| Just don’t care. |
| Once would struggle to find some kind of peace of mind
|
| Even when this dance is over I won’t stop moving. |
| I will never miss a
|
| Beat. |
| I would not be able to move like this without having walked through
|
| Your door. |
| I would not. |
| No, not without having my eyes shut…
|
| Or having watched them burn. |
| Shaped, redirected, reevaluated, created a new
|
| Man. |
| Thanks for getting me in. I’ll get you next time
|
| Much like discipline is the price to pay for progression, the admission price
|
| for happiness
|
| Is often suffering. |
| Regret loses it’s luster and appeal after considering that
|
| where we are in
|
| Our lives is merely the product of experiences and decisions. |
| The not-so true
|
| madness that
|
| Others put us through becomes a standard with which to compare our happiness to.
|
| So
|
| Thanks for getting me in. I won’t be paying you back |