Facing Oblivion
Some things are better left unsaid.
Sometimes you're better left off dead.
But then every once in awhile,
there comes a time when you've just gotta wake up and face the music that you just don't want to hear.
(You) can't displace the bruisers from the sear. And the scars, they hurt so hard. . .
And all the years... it just seems to fall upon deaf ears.
It seems that every little piece has a different point of view. I wonder what true vision would look like, without the divide down the center; like a winter cold splinter of december.
I remember when is was a lot simpler....
I remember all the bliss that I sometimes miss.
But then again, I never knew what I was getting into, until the end.
So I guess, "Let's begin from the beginning", is where many of us would choose to then discuss.
The bumps and the ruts from experience, hence the toll they take
on the wearer that had made them what they are so far.
And here's the part - after coming around again. Full spin.
Felt like I've been here before, and ya know,
it was 67th time that I had been in that shoe.
But the inclination still seeped through.
All the cracks in my wall that I had patched up
still managed to collapse from the strain of the past.
I just happened to have another relapse of sorts.
Of course, it took more than a few times
before I realised what had been going on so long.
So far the same old concepts and attempts would present themselves and miss, and then everyone would just dismiss it before analysis was given.
Whether it be your usual distractions of addiction,
liquor, and/or of prescription.
And should I mention, the matter of disclosure for those posers
who would hope to gain from this admission;
when I bring this to the attention.
But the details would seek to keep the others
from falling down the same disastrous paths.
Perhaps they might master a better enclosure,
and keep better composure under the pressure.
How do you measure the distance that the attention
span would command?
How should we value the power of a brand?
Or the grip of the hand shake, or a break in the link,
like the sink into sand?
How do you squint into the scope of the whole thing?
How do you measure the difference of revisions verses bad decisions.
How do you step back for a picture that's bigger than anything you had imagined?
And could we handle knowing everything that happened?
How do we handle the idea of never answering the same old basic
"What's?", and "Why's"?
I mean, I've been asking the same old questions all my life.
The same old Hello's and Goodbye's.
And frankly, I've grown to despise it all lately.
Wait! Don't count me out just yet.
A misinterpretation of my motivations, I suspect.
If you really knew me for who I was
then you'd know what I wasn't.
Oh yea, because society dictates that you have to judge first and think later.
Don't cater just to fit in.
If you gotta rot your soul just to feel any control.
If you're as strong as you brag, you won't take the g#d d#mn easiest path.
You'll make it work. You'll find a way.
And pay attention to the things that you win,
and, of course, what you've lost.
Don't lose everything for the cause.
You gotta learn to take time and pause- Who we are and why it is -
Don't just go and skip right over it.
Forget what they have said.
Don't let yourself get caught in regret.
I mean, be sure to mourn those that you've scorned and imposed upon,
and then find ways to not repeat and carry on.
And then find ways to pass along.
End song.