#1
One last show for old times
Talk persisting on my crimes
Just have to get away
For my soul

Where my road goes
Where I strike blows
Where I find foes
I'll remember those.
Where you tell me
I'll never be a possibility
For something great in this life
I'll remember those
They keep me grounded
Unlike clouds packed with fluff
You learn life fast, living it rough


The trumpets of Jericho sounded
Walls crashed ironically
Wounded somehow sonically
And in the rubble we rise
Pull the wool from our eyes
Our new sight mystifies
As our minds devise
A path out of ruin to escape our lives, strewn,
With distractions and detours disguised as the tours
Old heroes followed
Disguised, yet still lures
Barbed all the same
Twisted little game