Collected

If you could walk the Earth and Never draw breath would the fear Come and try to arrest you? Your fingers slowly fell off like A raindrop, stop: don’t play it Louder than you really need to ‘Cause if you cry at the smallest comment Your feelings will have been in vain It takes some time to really want it To know and to be something is the same thing Every day I dream of 58 And how it will be so nice to finally Have some answers But if I know the G-scale At the same point, I will Freak and weep so hard until I fall over And if my time was faster than a bullet At least I spent it sitting down I wiped my hands clean as you stood and Dialed the knobs on your bass amp If the sounds follow where you run to Within the ground, into your head Running after something that's above you Will probably cause a ragged heart rate And tell me how your body and your breastline Made a mark on what you made If faking exhales feels like undressing Then maybe the key is to relate Take your life, a dime for a dozen Put it in the pot of what he said About your self, what it was and wasn’t How does it feel to be collected?