randomness

let us not wear to thin the discussion of success because it is a fleeting and rare occurrence. What we should speak of now is the evergrowing importance of endless effort in the face of adversity. Most situations we face are the product of something we desire meeting societies rules and regulations. What other's want for us is more than half the equation for what we will do with our own desires. Without a third part to the equation the self's desires are eliminated by the societal crush. The mysterious third part to the equation is endless effort. Do not give up in your fight to achieve what you desire. When you give up you eliminate all chance of forward progress.

Stage 8

Song i wrote. i imagine it with an indie vibe. Perhaps some piano or accoustic guitar backing it up. Based on erik erikson's stage 8 of development.

Stage 8
There's a clock on the wall
It tells me 3 hours left of fall
All alone as I wait for the winter

There's a crack in the glass
It lets me know that which I lack
Is condition

Chorus:
And if it's already gone
How does one recall it all
Are we just moving parts
Without a mission?

The traffic has dispersed
In our sleep we are emersed
And under covers

It’s the last thought we dream
As our bodies let us know
That we are older

Chorus:
And if it's already gone
How does one recall it all
Are we just moving parts
Without a mission?

In the morning I awake
With a slowly burning ache
And a fever

It’s the last thought I’ll have
Will the bill collector’s dad
Know who I am?

Chorus:
And if it's already gone
How does one recall it all
Or are we just moving parts
Without a mission?

1

to lose an arm
nay, to lose an extension of one's self
is to feel life's true disease
that of the lonesome

someone's shouting
can you make it stop
I think i'll just lay down
wake me when it stops

there is a fairy land
where little butterflies have power
and all else sinks into the morning dew
to wrestle away the hours

In this land there is a forest
A place where trees stand tall
And all else falls into the shade
to sleep away the hours

And Beyond the forest lies a lake
where the prettiest fish swim strong
and all else floats above the surface
to rock away the hours

and At the edge of fairy land
There lies a lone embankment
Covered in prickly flowers
A perfect place to dream away the hours

so let it not be said
that he is a merciful king
that his people do matter
and that his cuffs are not stained
Because his sleeves are dyed red
His people, poor and hungry
and his country bows to my mercy