Where are you going
walking down the street
as the sun struggles
to find a reason to rise
and trash skitters along the asphalt
being blown by the winds of wonder
I wonder when you will realize
realize that the second hand
is spinning too fast
and that one day
the clocks will all break
and one night
the bottle will run empty
and the mirrors won't break
and the knife won't cut
the gun won't ****
hammer
pull
so where are you going
we all say the road less traveled
but truth be told
that road doesn't exist anymore
and truth be told
we're too lazy to raise a fist anymore
and truth be told
I don't tell the truth
I just make you believe lies
but isn't that the same thing?