The tank empties, there is no use;

sometimes we all run low on juice.

The path is trod, there is no more,

why bother to walk out the door?

We see our path and follow true,

but that’s the way for me, not you.

Today the path’s all bee defined

by others who are not so kind.

In days long gone it was your way

you saw at the end of the day.

But now your path’s all crossed out

society doesn’t care what you’re about.

And so, at times you walk alone

and wonder how this way you’ve grown.

Society is a fucking mess

knock down the king, this game of chess.

But what indeed to build instead;

hope something grows before we’re dead.

So, buckle up, enjoy the ride

with allies there on every side.

Remember as you Journey on

it is your path you walk upon.