When the storm gathered at the door
It would take him a month of Sundays
To get back what he had before
Knocked down knocked out
Not sure what life’s about
All his hopes are reduced to nothing
All his future insecure
The road to the left looks dark and daunting
The road to the right is an endless hill
The road in the middle still scares him a little
But he doesn’t have a choice of standing still
He cried up to the heavens
This wasn’t my design
There must have been an error
There must have been some grave mistake
And struggling every second
Was pointless and sublime
Wherein he found his character
Wherein he found he couldn’t break
A cold breeze on a rainy Monday
Slumped down with his head in his hands
Never felt so crushed or humbled
Overwhelmed by life’s demands
No hope no plan
Right back where he began
Could have sworn that the sky was falling
Couldn’t hold it in his hands
The first little step was dark and daunting
The second after that was harder still
He knew he was slowing but he kept on going
Cos the flavor of defeat is the bitterest pill
He cried up to the heavens
This wasn’t my design
There must have been an error
There must have been some grave mistake
And struggling every second
Was pointless and sublime
Wherein he found his character
Wherein he found he couldn’t break
And the wind blows
Lost in translation from shire to town to nation
Fulfilling the ancient as time rewards the patient
Now it’s time for you to forget your distant glory
Now it’s time for you to fulfil another story
Maybe a painter a guide a clerk a maker
Or maybe a writer a king a star a fighter
Now it’s time for you to forget your distant glory
Now it’s time for you to fulfil another story
And it’s not about the place you go it’s what you’re learning
And it’s all about the way you grow along the journey
The first little step was dark and daunting
The second after that was harder still
He knew he was slowing but he kept on going
Cos the flavor of defeat is the bitterest pill
He cried up to the heavens
This wasn’t my design
There must have been an error
There must have been some grave mistake
And struggling every second
Was pointless and sublime
Wherein he found his character
Wherein he found he couldn’t break
Rounded down
Built back up
Polished crowned
Filled with love
And the wind blows
