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.