I wish I could write for a living. I wish I could write for the dead; I find no joy in giving
Life to fears and the life we dread.
We walk the line of faith along the banks of rivers and their convergence. There is no way up, I see no way down but maybe this path,
This straight path leads to deliverance.
Yesterday was a maybe, tomorrow may not be but today we shall be; standing here, what we were since then
And one day I shall write: of my heart, of those times, of those people and everything that I once thought