Once young and full hope, now complacent and smoking too much dope. Seems like all these big life dreams are about to go up in smoke.
We've choked on the smoke from pouring water over our burning ones. Wondering if it's better to let it burn or wash out and drown away. Still we can't leave till we've tried. We would do the same for you - the shirt off my back and to the last breath of air on this dying space mission - we'll give it all to you. Would you?
This world seems to be tearing at the seems. We can't keep fighting for these dreams. Things are not what they seem. We tell ourselves things are right, but we're all too self-satisfying to put in towards the fight.
I grew up living in a world that never existed. There's no glass ceiling. It's crashed in from the storm, shattering where the rest of us held it up. Our mothers fed us soft fictional to keep our hope ignited and fed it till we became brighter than stars over mountain peaks. They knew there would be those who would add fuel to the flames when our fire was just right. They knew there would be those who pledged a sip of water only to douse the whole thing with no hope of respsarking.
Some come to water the flowers and some stay, and then there are the boys who taken them anyway. Picked for a moment and gone forever. Tell me awful one don you think all flowers go to heaven? Do weeds go to hell? Let's plant this new garden and see. We'll plant seeds of our own and hope they grow. Once we figure this out, feed them to the rabbits, the birds, the bees. Nothing left for you or me. We'll burn the ground and leave it behind.
Running off with no where in mind. Staying complacent but always in our minds. This ones grown and died too many times over. Here is where we'll be. Come find us and see.
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