If I'm happy with where I be
Then that's fitting in enough for me.

If only the world would pause for a moment--
Then how quiet it would be!
Only the birds and the wind and the sky,
And also there'd be you and I.
Once the world moved slowly,
But now were going faster than even the wind can fly.

Another day has begun,
Another day, no special day,
A day among months and years and millenia.
We wake, we eat,
And laughter echoes from hollow souls.
And so Man's nature:
That's the question we never quite answer.
Back and forth, him and her and them,
Rarely I.
We move slowly, but not forward.
Or maybe everyone moves forward but me.
It could be yesterday, but I wouldn't know.
I'm stuck with the problem from long ago.
When I question it, they throw words.
Maybe they answered already,
But I didn't make the connection.

"You need fulfilment-
To be man, you must be man to the fullest.
Work with responsibility.
Motion with pride.
Freedom."
But how can a slave be free?
I think they said this about me,
That I'm a bureaucrat.
They say it negatively.
But how can I find Who I am
If no one tells me what Who looks like
Or how to find it, since
I'm too stupid to know myself?
Maybe they answered already,
And the disconnect lies in me.

Or maybe they don't know,
And I'm surrounded by astronomers,
Which is why in the grand scheme
I'm invisible to them,
And my thoughts never sound their ears.
Yet with all that's stuck inside,
I feel so empty.
Maybe I have nothing good to say.
The astronomers-
They know how to find the heart,
But since they don't know what it means,
They throw stones at it
And wonder why it dies.

I don't effing know what's wrong -
My brain's a mess just like this song;
I sing to the beat and I play this game,
Will I always be the effing same?

I don't like the person I pretend to be,
But **** truth is, I don't even know me,
Changed and shaped by all around
(Without them, I'd be heaven-bound).

Or would I be in hell with Satan?
Cause unless I am mistaken,
My soul is twisted, my heart is cracked.
I just need an effing smack!

These evil thoughts that plague my mind
Take the truth and mix in lies.
I'd take a sponge and scrub them raw,
Remove every thought, but naw,

I'm cursed to live in indecision,
Going on without precision,
Wondering do I have a mission,
Cracking in my heart this fission!

What the eff is wrong with me?
I keep on hoping to believe
That who's saying all this ****
Is only me, and that's it.

I never thought I'd break my heart o'er a man,
But now daddy's death -- well, it can.
No one loved me like my dad did,
No one loved my dad as I did.

Now see, he weren't my real daddy,
But I know this, he ought to be.
It was more than music which born us close.
Whatter was? I don't quite know.

I met him for the love of music,
At that time, only for music.
I'd play and learn, and when not,
I'd put off lessons so I want caught.

But something grew there somehow
My teacher said, "Don't pay no more."
I didn't pay, and I didn't play,
At least not for me, but him.

Dont get me wrong, I loved my banjo,
But more I loved his smile so,
When I played, it were t'make him proud.
He always smiled, even when I failed.

Then one day he said, "I got this disease,
Wrecks my body - it's called CRP.
Can't move my arm no more at all,
Can't play that banjo on the wall.

So dear daughter, I want you to take
My banjo and play it for my sake."
It were't a beautiful banjo from head to neck
And sounded true in every fret.

So I took his picker and he my heart
Though it was his from the start.
I had no dad and him no daughter.
I think we was made for th'otter.

But work came, and college, too.
I saw him fewer, fewer, few.
I didn't write, I didn't call,
I barely played for him at all.

When I came back, he smiled his smile
"Hello, dear daughter, it's been awhile. "
We couldn't hug like old because
His body wasn't what it was.

I played for him, but played all wrong,
I messed up song and song and song,
"I'm sorry dad, I'm really rusty,
Life has kept me way too busy."
Although in my heart I knew,
It weren't completely true.

"I missed you daughter, it's okay,
You'll play better this next Saturday."
He smiled and laughed when it was said.
But it weren't true. Tuesday he was dead.

I met him for the love of music.
Loved music for the love of him.
But now that my dad is gone,
How will I ever play again?