Look at this cloud,
and how it hangs high.
How it hangs high diluting my mind.
So dark and so thick, making me sick.
Blocking out vision, while subtracting purpose.
Under the surface, i really am nervous.
When will i die?
Where will we go?
Our path is pre mapped.
Like prints in the snow.
Following where, each must go.
If you come with me, im sure that you'll see
All these great things i know we can be