Its feeling the undying urge in your system
And be unable to do anything
Know nothing about taming
Ignoring the awakening
Disregarding the thrills and the tingling
How do you cling to springtime dreams
If it now feels like delusional thinking

It's the sense of being lost
In the cabins of the found
the scent of uncertainty
in the lodges of the doubters
the aroma of confusion
In the quarters of the sure
How do we grow to like something
And grow later in life to hate it