I’m playing both sides against the middle to try and figure out the answer to this riddle
And little by little I’m starting to understand that there is no cure for this common man
Outside of letting go of what I thought I had……what I thought was real
Tragically falling victim to mere physical sight, the American Dream feels too obscene
Maybe that’s because it’s such a foreign thing…….kings and queens of such trivial things
With lovely little songs to sing, and pretty little bells to ring
I can’t figure out which battles to fight, as you play your happy little whistle all through the night
Is success the rose attached to the thorn and thistle of feeling like I’m constantly failing at everything I’m doing?
I’m still trying to figure out how to pursue the things I see fit for pursuing….But there it is again… me thinking I actually know something…….or nothing at all, as I brace for the fall that comes every other moment….
Yeah, life hurts, full of pain-but I own it-make it mine-stop wasting time complaining and start campaigning for reality because I’ve known it…to be something beyond what I can taste, touch smell, hear and see, even beyond what I think and feel
This is life and it hurts but I’m alive and it’s real