Happy gray buildings remind us of us
We sit, or we lay, and we all really must
Come withered children I instruct you trust me,
“Find the shape of your life and trace it out, justly.”

Is the knock on the door only for me
Am I the only one here aware of the fee
When you're far up in feeling the rooftop’s air
You must know what to push down to keep you up there

Allowed, are the many, I strain to believe
Default to the spectrum of loving with ease
Know that I don't say I'm sad to be humble
It's a race that I lost or still run but don't run well

Across town, the statues of structure collapse
Among minds the passion of patterns relapse
Autumn breeze means something, not any more
Cold winds of pure chaos take straight lines to our door

Only alone in my home do I dare
Not when I'm out there riding that scare
But it's bricks of a chimney we collectively built
It can't be just me who’s too warm from that guilt

It's a stilt on a crutch on a leather bound chair
You're calling it healthy to be scared to be bare
What in life’s name are we calling this tower
The knocks on the doors’ all too loud to be cowards