Buried Thoughts
Buried in the thoughts of elsewhere moments
Is the sad loss of immediate and close by ones
What of distant scenarios, if they can’t be grasped, even a little?
Perhaps pondering painfully in the present
Is more valuable than longing for a more desirable impossibility
Perhaps, but who’s to say? Perhaps, but who's to say?
‘Cause I ‘m looking for authenticity in the midst of this reality
What’d you say, what you say?
Perhaps perfection lies in the perception, of that which stimulates the mind to see?
Or maybe some absolute truth, guides what may actually be?
But arbitrary pain and angst and hate
Seem to roam free in he mind with any time or reason, to host misery
It leaves nothing, good to say, it leaves nothing good to say
‘Cause I ‘m looking for authenticity in the midst of this reality
What’d you say, what you say?
And to be a rebel without a cause, or with one, changes nothing
Are they not valid, the emotions, that run wild to find the truth?
Perhaps some friends and some prayer
And some good advice would clear the air
And free the fire in the foundation, that runs wild to find the truth
Perhaps but who’s to say, perhaps but who’s to say?
‘Cause I ‘m looking for authenticity, in the midst of this reality
What’d you say, what you say?
