Why do we fight so hard to find happiness?
Or a love so unpredictably fierce,
when it inevitably ends
it only brings suffering and a hunt for self-forgiveness?
Although we aren’t stupid enough to not know it
We’re all naïve enough to give it one more go
With just one aim
To find that special thing we all feel we’re destined for
And block out the blackness in the distance
Some say it’s the definition of madness
But a part of me believes it’s the definition of life itself
Curiosity mixed with hopelessness
An uncontrollable fascination to find “the next great thing”
That brings us momentary satisfaction
Even a sense of fulfilment and gratification
But ultimately it’s never quite enough to sustain us
So the question is,
Why bother at all?
Is the thrill of the chase too enticing too waste?
Because the ends never justify the means
Or so it seems to a person so cynical
Drenched in thoughts consumed by the need to be critical
It’s true
Time is draining every last ounce of positivity out of me
But here I am, sat here with you
Hoping you’re the one to breed new life inside of me
.. that would be nice