Now I'll live separate and must learn to lie still
the days all drone on, yet I've no time to mend
I gather some semblance of what once was my will
and I use it to journey toward the light at the end

Corpses grind forgotten bones
to realign them all with homes
empty whispers in hollow ears
that funnel wind all through the years
a life of listening is wasted time
blind your eyes and close your mind

These memories echo in shades of perfection,
of which I'd know little, if you were still here

I've grown a little tired from all this making you sick
so how about you call it freedom and I'll call it quits

Work rider wait the storm
comfort finder play the norm
break labor earn your pay
take pressure stagnant stay
dig in worker riches find
deep lurker work the mine
for others reap a sweet reward
vaults that keep and treasures hoard

Do you think Van Gogh lost his ear because he couldn't stand criticism
do you believe Beethoven became deaf cause he couldn't handle cynicism
do you truly believe art is unable to transcend our silly likes and follows      then bury your head once more poor soul and in ignorant misery wallow

Those neolithic whispers echo even now,
ingenuity prevailing, propensity resounds