My ambitions had gone the way of the jet stream
High up and far away from me

I eventually felt the need to retrieve my absent cause
Because what's lost can be found

The scent of what was still lingered
So like a hound I set out
Hot on the trail of runaway dreams

I traveled far and came face to face with a fact
What's is doesn't have to be
I had been trapped in my own false reality
I hadn't lost my ambition
It was hidden inbetween the lines of self loathing I wrote and read to myself over and over

What is lost can be found
What is doesn't have to be
And what is written can always be rewritten