My love doesn't obey time.
My madness doesn't know reality,
And my consciousness...

My consciousness sits somewhere
    In the middle of the ocean,
       On a raft,
          Smoking a bowl.

              And every time I ask it to come back it just says,
               "Nah, man. It's much better out here."


My heart doesn't listen.
My brain can't lead,
And my life...

My life ends every twelve months.
With each new year, I start over and live through an entire lifetime.
        Condensed,
          Compressed,
            But still just as heavy.


My reflection doesn't know it's me.
My thoughts don't know when to stop,
And my soul...


My soul is ever growing, helping me learn from my mistakes.
With it I'm able to reach out and truly change things.
          Holding,
            Grasping, and
                Solidifying immortality.

I told the frog on my dashboard that I loved him.
I told the vulture on the fence, "I'm sorry."
I told the jackal on my tail I didn't need him.

And I made it through all right.

I told the sharks goodbye forever,
I told the wolves that I'd be back.
I told the flamingos they were beautiful,

And I walked on into the night.

I told the rats that I forgave them,
I told the strays "I understand."
I told the songbird "I'll stay here a while"

And I've since regained my sight.

The boy who rode atop misfortune's wing
Now finds new ways to start moving ahead.
What luck could never give you love will bring,
And from old mistakes new ideas are bred.

There will be days those storm clouds just won't clear
And you dwell on mistakes that you have made.
Just smile at the thunder you can hear.
Be grateful for the clouds that brought the shade.

There's a peace after every hurricane.
An appreciation for what's not lost.
And though nothing will ever be the same,
You can't help but look back at what was tossed.

It's all right to look back at what you've done.
But remember to walk away-- Not run.

Optimism can be hard when you’re alone in the dark

When you’re at the lowest point in your story arc

You might try to find a window, but you’re surrounded by walls

So you stay awake at night, pacing the halls

You wish it could be fiction, you hope it’s all fake

But this is your life, and the choices you make

Your story’s written on thin lines with red ink

It’s about time you fixed yourself, don’t you think?

You can’t play healer to all these broken souls

You've got your own blocks and plot holes

So put down the silver and pick up the pen

Your story’s not over yet, it’s time to start again.