Breathing to beat my life to the punch
Knock it a hard one and take it to lunch
Offer the sandman a ransom note
Taking on water but staying afloat
Never was good at selling the sell
But I knew a time that you never could tell
Sewing the seam shut crooked and long
Makes my appearance wicked and wrong
The world leaks life through cracks in the surface
Running in place and slipping on purpose
You experience things you regret, maybe not
But you always remember the way you were taught
Beating dead horses is tiring work
Yet we finish gladly and leave with a smirk
Maybe you don’t get it, maybe you do
Maybe you wish I was already through
But wishing on stars is for those that believe
That doing your best ensures you achieve
That spoon brought forth from your palette shines bright
While I scratch at dirt and pray for the light
So punch my face and take my pride
I’ll let you pass while I stand aside
Trick the mirror and show some teeth
Shut the demons deep beneath
I never knew what to expect from the race
Would I cross the finish and see your face?
Or would I collapse several steps from the start
Hearing only the silence of my dry, beaten heart?