waking up knowing
mistakes keep misery snowing
all hate is growing
always reaping and sowing

hate is familiar
naive is happier
a choice i got
still i choose to not
thus tightening the knot

knowing what to do
found out why
and what for who
the right is always next time
a quarter inch 'til that line
still the last is the hardest
the further i go im always the farthest

experienced so much
looks like i know so little
still i lack the touch
all my forks are a riddle

drive is not what we're lacking
motivation is who we are
we are not just relaxing
our reasons aren't stuck at the bar

true intent is hidden
our conscience seems bedridden
hearts are in a bind
and the mind seems always blind