The lights were already on, when I first came to be onstage, Nobody had asked me, but I’m sure staying there was courage, No idea what the others were going to say or do, was I even an actor?
We have been told, that each of us has a manifest destiny, And that our most futile action, would be to attempt mutiny, That fate has drawn up for each of us, a fixed path, And straying from which we
While other baubles pray, for the redeeming grace of morning light, You always let slip, a few sparkles of delight, into the heart of night, Even on those mornings that seem engulfed by unseemly blight, You reassure those around, with
Many have walked this path before me, and yet the corpses are so few, The ones that lie before me, are warnings painted a crimson hue, Warnings that most before me found wise enough to heed, This only made
I heard from many lives for whom you were the sunshine, And hoped that you could dispel the darkness from mine, Until someone asked me how all your light was spun, And I wondered who was your secret sun. I