Pouring out the life of me
Seemed an endless quest for blood.
I didn’t know it would be so easy
To pretend we weren’t playing in mud.
Then one day I woke up from that dream
Came to the realization this was my life right here.
It was as if someone else told me to drive
And I didn’t know how to steer.
Failed at every task given
Even the easy ones.
Flew right past the gates of hell
Because I didn’t like their guns.
Someone told me I was a farmer
So I tried that for a while.
Turns out, I don’t really like to grow things
I just left all the stuff in a pile.
Then they said I was a carpenter
So I bought myself a hammer
“The hell am I doing with all these tools?
I want something with a little more glamour.”
Trying my hand at the secretarial jobs
I didn’t like being told what to do
It’s an affliction in a writers head
That what you told them, they already knew.
I tried being stablity
But I didn’t really know what that meant.
Can I never move or change anything
Like steel that has never bent?
Don’t think these lives are really for me
I fail at them, every turn
When you tell me I cannot touch that flame
Trust me, I’m going to burn.
When I was reminded this is the life for me
“You must like what you take”
I rolled my eyes at the thought of it
And said “seriously, you’ve made a mistake.”