Ohhh why.

Why do I want to talk with you?
When did it start to feel like this?
What is it that lurks out there that I miss?
Where did these thoughts come from?

Did they start just now or did I carry them for long?
Do I ever stand a chance to see and end to this?
Did things happen for a reason or is there nothing like that?
Do I really need all of this or is it just a low hiss?

The sounds of madness the moments of clarity.
I hope the world will give me some charity.
Walking a path of unknown things with boots of luck.
I wish for a moment where I can be start struck.


Along a line so long that I can't see the end.
At a place where I cant make strings match up or unfold.
Sometimes I really think that this is getting old.
Out there in the cold I'm scared of it all.
Not wanting answers to these questions rather rolling the ball.

But I can't relie on a truck that drives it self.
I have to stretch my hand out and make amends.
Grabbing it to be my own throw those fears away.
And with my own two bare hands all my ghosts slay.
Some people say that you can only pray, but I say nay.

Because only myself I may my future create.
It is not served on a golden plate.
Time is ticking and I better act before it's to late.