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The Road
.
.
That road,
That direction is one I should have taken ages ago,
They say.
It's hard when it's snowing but the snows will melt afterwards,
They'll promise you a piece of tenderness under your fingernails and deliver.
More strength
To fight,
To give more than you take
When at your rock bottom,
And even if the road is slow and forces you down on your knees,
Make [the road] stop asking those useless questions.
Am I getting closer?
How much faith is left?
Where do they lead—
The guardrails that lie to me in the dark? Am I going backwards
And wasting lines that scream
That they'll never let me into our home again?
Or should I go with the flow,
Start laughing with the snap of a finger?
Have my own walk of fame and crowds in front of me
And be part of the herd despite my deformed spine.
And sing despite it all
And play,
Kiss ankles
While standing.
On the wings of all nightingales
And more or less out of habit,
Stop asking useless questions.
Am I getting closer?
How much faith is left?
Where do they lead, the guardrails that lie to me in the dark?
Am I going backwards
And wasting lines that scream
That they'll never let me into our home again?
.
Am I getting closer, how much faith is left?
Where do they lead, the guardrails that lie to me in the dark?
Am I going backwards and wasting lines that scream
That they'll never let me into out home again?

Give a shoutout to Frog







