I let the ancients decide for it's them who ride roughly on the cobbled streets where my life is at bay.
As they fly through the night with the reins of my day held tight in their hands,they grandstand to me
as if I want to see what is slipping away.
Let them have today for tomorrow is mine and time in small doses is all I can take,I shall wager a stake on the pinwheel of fortune that soon they'll be gone,washed up as sand on some far distant beach,within reach of the sea but far removed from me,
I let the ancients decide,they reside in us all and the call of the wild will always remain on the lips of this child,
so let them ride rough,I am strong and am tough,I can roll with the punches and knocks,watching clocks as they tick and knowing tomorrow will lick me
into shape.