No matter how hard we try
No matter how much we want it
Some stories just don't have a happy ending .

Are we who we thought we'd make it out to see?
Is this the crossing grounds?
That I've heard so much sound about?

Will we choose and never choose again?
Or will we loose and forever loose the chance?

Life seems so bleak laid out before us
constructed and deconstructed through a system that is,
Our legacy.

But whose to say,
What will come of us?

Direction, Direction, Direction.
But whose to say,
We need one...

You said to me:
                           "If I'm going to be alive
                            I might as well be incredible
                            I want to do more than just exist."

I couldn't say what I wanted to, so I wrote you a riddle that I'll never show and you'll never see:

I was born innocent and strong heart-ed
I grew up with a firm footing and quick grasp
I lived with determination and loved my love with pure certainty

Soon I imagine, my acclaimed wisdom will be passed along
As if that has any significance
And then after
I'll be dead.

walking down the street it's getting dark
wishing i hadn't forgot where i parked
i've never really been to to your neighborhood anyway

you're still sitting on your roof
smokin' a cigarette
already forgotten that i'd left
I never really was your hero anyway

and never have you ever really needed savin'
i just wanted to be someone you could hide in
you always thought there was something beautiful bout being alone
so i'll never know

walking to my door, get a buzz on my phone
you say never have you ever felt so alone
and he never really felt as good as you anyway
come save the day

but she never really ever needed savin'
and i just wanted to be someone she could hide in
she always thought there was something beautiful bout being alone
so she'll never know

Bad time are coming but;
        we act like we don't know
                     its been a long time coming;
                     we've been down this road.
                                               we know how the Story ends,
                                                           ­               history's been told.

We set off on the right path,
                  end up chasing gold.
                  by the time it loses its glitters,
                                               we are way too old.

Life is as bitter as the blistering cold,
                  it will break your heart,
                  just so it can throw out the mold,
                                                  and sell your soul.