At times it's hard to find my way
When all I do is run in place
If I ever get to where I am
Will I then find there's nothing left

If I could make it to the crest
Of the hill inside my head
Possibly will I then see
There are needs beyond just me

And of these lines upon my face
That tell of stories packed with age
Of all the battles I've been in
That I could neither lose nor win

In the running of this race
Where I find it hard to find my place
If I ever get to where I am
Will I then find there's nothing left