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?