Forget the useless eightballs, ‘cause they’re pessimists, and forget the folding flowers, because fate doesn’t listen to humans

Don’t bother with the tea leaves, ‘cause I’m reading nothing here but tangled blobs

I’m at a crossroads, lost, with a coin in one hand and a map in the other, but the map is faded; the coin, two-faced

And I never thought I’d need a flashlight; young eyes see in the dark the things older people forget

I didn’t want to use any other guidelines, give me the candle, I’ll give back the wax, I don’t need a lighter or sympathy, only empathy, and even then,

whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying

I don’t want to screw around with a guidebook, skip the words and leave the pictures, I can connect the dots, probably faster than you can read the words you’re ignoring

Don’t listen to the platitudes or aging attitudes, this isn’t a revolution except in the minds of the revolutionaries

There is no man to fight against, it’s every man for himself, of course, and while the fools fight for things they don’t understand, or believe

it’s the same as disbelief; they fight for nothing

Granting liberty brings a death of no freedom, and giving death is it’s own kind of liberty, there are no words to describe an ocean

crashing into a shore, or a tidal wave freed from restraint

It doesn’t matter what I feel, they teach, because feelings are useless in a world of logic, and vice-versa, but logic starves reason,

and reason breeds emotion