I used to loving the idea of being a nomad,
Moving without a road map, forward on never to go back.
But now I know that: life goes full circle
You do laps around the track just to jump the same hurdles.
Maybe moving forward can come from staying rooted.
Build a base of safety then risks can be pursuited.
I've always thought my self ill-suited for  any commitment,
Perhaps I just convinced myself that nothing has ever fitted.
It's easy to get lost in the swirling sights and sounds
A wanderlust explorer seeking all but solid ground.
You know what though? I've had my fill of moving.
Shuffling round long enough not sure of what I'm doing.
It's real easy to quit anything, anytime, anywhere,
when you convince yourself concerning everything: you do not care.
I'm 25 now and feel the need to start caring,
Too many nights I've spent drinking and swearing:
That I could change the game and put some lights around my name,
step into the life of fame and never see the house of pain.
****, what a shame. Pretty positive I did the opposite
Tried to get deep and ended higher than a rocket ship.
But experience I pocketed no chance someone is robbing it
I'm done throwing away my best from now on I'll keep it closeted.
Use it for myself when I hear the moment beckoning,  
It still hasn't passed me yet, at least, by my reckoning.
No more talk of time wasted getting too stupidfaceded
instead I'll unleash my own hard will and embrace it.
Learn to find my own high inside my mind's eye,
Use every skill that I have with each tool that I ply.
I'm moving from barrels bottom straight to the top shelf.
Never thought it'd feel so good: improving my self.