I follow the light
and endure what I must
I have never been the one
who needed to not trust
I have walked through alcohol
and battlefields of lust
and I returned again

I follow whats right
removing all the rust
and once upon a time I knew
exactly when a thing was just
I can live through anything
including this  swords ******
that I may return again

there comes a time in every life
to forget what they said
to pick up this old shovel
and bury this old dead
making something beautiful
out of what you dread
and perhaps you'll find a way
to return again

when hope comes to shove
you're my language of love
the second chance that finally worked
to bring me to my newfound feet

it could be forward motion
or a poorly made ocean
a time to give old grief a miss
and do the things I asked myself

I fall in love every day
and still I keep my soul at bay
for fun? or fear? or lack of light?
you my dear are worth the fight
I sought you all this time
and now all of this hope is mine
all of this frightened hope is mine

dancing through the wasted days
this tired man has changed his ways
I cherish every thought of you
because you brought me back

Do you dream of escape as I do?
When the hurt starts to fall does it all fall on you?
when the going gets tough
Does your soft heart shine through?
Do you dream?
Do you hope for escape  as I do?

Did I ever forget to win?
In the dark behind my eyelids must I always witness sin?
when the going gets tough
Can I still bear and grin?
Did I forget?
Shall I again forget to win?

Did I give it all at age eighteen
The fiery soul of the greatest dreamer you've ever seen.
when the going gets tough
Can the dreamer stay clean?
Did I give it all?
Did I lose it all at age eighteen

Do you dream when you're deprived?
Like when the last light of a dying fire somehow stays alive.
when the going gets tough
Can a dead heart revive?
Do you dream?
Can you still dream when you're deprived?

you must
and shall
remain alive

the lowest point it was a bridge
or  a field by the park
it could have been the greyhound station
or the truck stop after dark

wandering toward a blurry point
a sunburn in his hand
nothing but this blanket
and a memory of good land

I'm coming back to where love is
there must be one thing that remained
a shard of my old countenance
that proves I am not stained

The light is bright I see it!
it burns away the present dark
behold the joy is rising
our hero may still make some mark

At 2 A.M this morning
the bad guy proved himself
he got back on his feet
and found his missing health

With a thought I cant capture
I shall wait for the rapture
-And sit upon ideas-
As if they were my Gold
Or my sunshine or a hand to hold

She said there is power in the rain
Hearts don't need  to change with pain
-There has to be an instance-
where something changed from the worse
where a good man rises from his curse

Even bad men fall in love
In water they must stay above
-And some hearts may come back home-
To the beginning of some path
Before they forgot how to laugh

Second chances are not curses
more like pages with no verses
-A wanting so intense-
That you shall be allowed no rest
Until you get a heart back in your chest

I wait- and I always will
hunting for some time to ****
but now I have some shoes to fill
on the other far off side

would you desire me if I changed my plan?
would you if I was a worthy man?
I could alter where I stand
if you maybe wanted me

I'm making eye contact
with a perfect precious girl I lack
at least I got myself back
in time to cut my losses

I wait and I always will
one day I will see her and time wont go still
but for now I bide my time until
I can catch her eyes again

If you have a bit of time
may i prevail upon your pity?
There's something of a wounded man
in search of what is pretty.

for somewhere very distant
from the wasteland he has made.
There's something of a wounded man
who fled the things that stayed.

Though inspiration come
through fire within ones heart.
There's something of a wounded man
who has forgotten how to start.

If you have a bit of time
may I prevail upon your pity?
There's something of a wounded man
Who just met someone pretty