Moderate Enough To Be Insane
"Every day's a little cold
And every day's a little old
Every dare's but a little bold
And souls only have a little gold
But every heart's a little controlled"
However much this song may sting
my heart, another thing may sing
That live's may yet not've lost it's sting
Evedent in my cool homeland's spring
even when my live's been wringed
Now however far my heart may go
through fire or sand or freezing snow
I set my mind on things of o'd
and wonder if, truth be told,
that life's tempest might not scold
but might refine said things I have thought
Even through every burning lot
Killing thing that I've been taught
cannut just be found and faught
But my soul stay on, not the less disdraught.
I am the impossible normal, that discredited muse
that yet still has many'a bruise
from live to take and lives to loose
and every thought my mind has used
can be refound, and made reused.