What do you think they married into,
Was it the way you look or was it your ideals?
The way you talk or your actual thoughts?
What do you think really mattered,
A sustainable future or broken blocks from the past?
Concerning yourself with all that wasn’t important,
You lost your way a little.
You forgot your way to get into people’s hearts,
Battling the voice inside left not a lot,
To overcome your own prison walls.
So, you decorated your walls with paintings,
Cardboard cutouts of your lofty dreams.
Always been a dreamer, but only at night,
The sunshine never able to exorcise,
Your demons from the light.
You make plans, you half arse,
Magnanimous with words, and wanting in action.
And who wouldn’t put up with that at the start,
Your castles and castles of stories,
Promises of a wonderland not afar.
But eventually the day comes, you’re left with none,
Your pandora’s box is empty, you desperately look for one.
You know they’re waiting,
You know that you are!
If not stories, what else have you got?