Most the time it's the rat race

On the road to find my face


I will always lose the mask


Tell the band to cart it back

Coming up from landscape lows


Coming home in dirty clothes


Pockets full of empty change

I will always rearrange them


There's a hornet's nest in my head


Oh, what am I supposed to do?

How am I to carry you?


Disappointment longs in my heart


Just to plant another seed

I will find a way to feed them


I rehearse this on the plane


Hydroplane in mourning rain

Barely fill your lights butane


Little sparks but fire's wane


Most the time I'm a burn out

Juggling life from hand to mouth


I enact a show for you


Try will let it go for you

And the question burns thru my head


What am I supposed to do?


How am I to carry them thru?

It's puzzle missing it's parts


Half of life that seems short lived


Maybe all that I can give them

Coming up from landscape lows


Coming home in shotty clothes


I will simply have to change

I will always rearrange my face


Gun it, no don't