I hear you like I'm near you,
On your soapbox full of rage
As you fill your need to shout a little more
Voices on voices upon voices
Who need to voice what they feel is right.
Filled in a sea of people who you feel are wrong.
You try to believe the good in every man.
Especially this man.

You don't have to tell me twice
I gave my nimble secrets to that talkative man
Paying my way for this one way ticket
To the next thing that will save us.
However I was left with empty hands
Nothing to show but these lessons made from fools gold
It's hard to change this march of time.