Sometimes you find that needle in a haystack
Sometimes you find hay in a needle stack
We're all just trains speeding on tracks,
Looking straight ahead, never thinking about the crash
Screeching to a halt, with a sore neck from the whiplash.
It's all in the plan, not yours, but the prewritten
As those cards come crashing, sitting up late,
contemplating the best plan to keep the water out,
Plugging ears to keep out the sounds of doubt
Still stuck at a crossroads without ever receiving a map
The fact is, you're in a life stuck in a trap,
Locked behind a desk, making little to give a lot back
They've got you hooked like an addict, digging in scraps,
Not achieving true potential, the mentality of worthless minimal
It's pitiful, the places you could be but aren't,
Rising stars burn out in a fast food smoke
In a way it's a joke, even these words become hidden
Within an invisibility clock, forgotten in a note.
To the point that even a poet who'd never know it
Got discouraged about his rhyme and unwrote it.
I'm running down the fields throwing needles in hay,
But today, the kids don't come out to play
Too busy aspiring not to aspire, lost in the desire
Of lazy days, stuck in a hazy maze,
Lost his metal cap and lost his way
Only educating the past educated, in a past already paved,
The rest enslaved by reality for lack of better analogy
Feeling the weight of an eighty hour minimum week salary