People are either lost Or greedy Or both The splendor is a delirium Of a naive mind The truth is beyond the shallow Not too friendly to a confused kind
Celebrating life Like no other form, Stable but uncertain What's the next step in this jive I'm the mural painter Capturing the sky Playing with these words Don't ask me 'why?'
Wisdom of the youth Is often over heard Foolishness of old Is regarded as words of wise All in this world is not as it may seem And even I am, mistaken from time to time But one thing that I have learned Is worth more than any dime Is that I rather listen to my own heart Than to those who shout and cry As oftenwise their points are equal to Nye
I don't seize to surprise I am into the battle with every sunrise What is certain is that everything will pass What is not, is who will salvage all that mass?