Cursed with the talent for living badly
No answers, just the truth in every crazy move
Learning living like no ones been you before.
Noone has been you before.
The search for you is easy to abandon
Stay put, stick it out, after all you must
Those truths you seek are selfish .
Its not a quest, its an escape .
No answers. Just running
Fine, running, searching, hoping
No paved road underneath my feet
Looking for a place the deeper to breathe
No answers. Doesnt matter .
Graced with the talent for living badly
And wearing my weakness too often on my sleeve
Im wondering again if there isnt a higher order
among the calling chaos, the dancing fire and the quiet faith.
No answers. Just living.
