Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

It's a race, it's a hurry

I hate this ugly feeling,
An overdose of sadness
That keeps me reeling
In a turbulent bubble
With no way of dealing
With the sadness I'm feeling.

I'm running so fast
As I'm hit in the face
With the wretched past
Which soaks this entity
To the bone, it'll last
As I'm trying to run so fast.

I've made up my mind
To walk into the dark
In hopes that I'll find
A special revelation.
An unusual breed, a special kind
That will help me further my mind.

As though I should hurry,
I grab the blade,
And release this worry
Into the wind, into the sky,
Perhaps I'll die
While my vision is blurry;
It's a race, it's a hurry.

November 22, 2006

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It`s a race, it`s a hurry

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