
Perhaps I appear confident in print
The paper expands arrogance’s pitch
I can hide behind my words for a stint
Though the return to reality can be a bitch
Perhaps I appear confident in print
The paper expands arrogance’s pitch
I can hide behind my words for a stint
Though the return to reality can be a bitch
Stepping out into the light
My eyes can’t adjust to the sunshine
Night left me with nary a sleep
Stumblin’ home to all that’s still mine
Life comes at you hard & fast on the inside
Wondering when the pitches stopped comin’ in underhand
Won’t wallow in misery nor memory of elsewhere’s joy
These speeches fail to convey truth I can’t understand
Where do we go to return to the proper roads
Did I miss the signal for the game to truly begin
I’m old these days; confused by angles & trajectories
Yet I can still & once again wipe myself clear of my sin