Circa 2005-06 Untitled

There's a street where journeyers unload excess baggage

They part with damaged goods

There is a place where children are born from ashes

But you first must pass the woods

 

There is a realm where desensitized failures

Find hope in the wake of defeat

And hopeless romantics need only look inside to find

All that makes them complete

 

And the faint are rendered bold

By the melody bestowed

From the incessant bird of night

Singing of his faithful plight

And the homeless come to wealth

And the sickly regain health

And there's a safe place to play for every kid

I know, somewhere, that place exists