You see The thing is
You see The thing is I’m scared.
Of what you may ask?
It’s of a Dangerous task.
We get high off the nostalgia,
Of what once was before.
We forget we are the ones,
Who opened these doors.
But when you drive, You come across thoughts.
That ties your whole head, Into a million knots.
Like a doors just a hole, With something to cover, What’s inside.
I think humans do that too, I think it’s something Called pride.
But nonetheless these thoughts come when we drive,
That question our reason,
That question our reason, For being,
That question our reason, For being, Alive.