Brought to a point where the thoughts just don't matter
and left with the queen's men and all the mad hatters
I wonder at times
at these silly, odd rhymes
But i can't find off ramp to save my own self
So I tuck it all off on a shelf
The road just keeps goin' so I follow behind
And eulogies, past lives they clutter my mind
I can't feel the wheel
Or the moments I steal
And I wonder sometimes at the vision I know
As the rain turns to snow
The past cannot makeup for the future unlived
The good that I want for is less than I give
My nickles and dimes
Do not make up for time
And I'm trying my damndest, truly, for best
But I look for the off ramp to rest
