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My Favorite Song That I've Written |
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This is for the daughters,
Who carry their sisters in their arms,
Until they're old enough
To carry on the tradition of mistakes.
"Twas made by my mother,
And she survived
So maybe I can too."
This is what they tell themselves
When they look in the mirror and see
The woman that abandoned them
In those years so long ago.
But just keep living.
Yeah, just keep giving.
Because it's your effort
Your drive
Your passion
Your regret
That will one day inspire
An author to write a novel
That will make society
Better understand your existence in the world.
For better or for worse.
And what's worse?
Knowing that you're forgotten or just not important enough
To be remembered
By those who claim to be the supposed image of friends and family.
Yeah, this is for the actress.
Who paints her face each day
Before lying to the whole world
With the illusion that she is perfect
And never sheds a tear.
"What do I really fear?"
This is what she asks herself
When she stares down at the crowds
Of adoring sheep.
Who claim they wish they were her,
And who think
Their lives are not fulfilled and never will have
The said success that society now wishes to impress
Upon our childeren.
The guiding lights of our revolution.
But just keep living.
Yeah, just keep giving.
Because it's your effort
Your drive
Your passion
Your regret
That will one day inspire,
A child to live her dreams.
To ignore what her family claims to be true,
And follow her heart.
Straight into the chaos.
This is for the artists,
Who never spend a day of their lives
Without the pain.
The pain that comes
With expressing your deepest desires
Without giving a care
To what the world may have to say.
"I'll tell our people to smile,
Even if they can never be happy."
This is what they tell themselves,
While making their greatest work
That won't even be famous
Until they have passed.
But it's better to be remembered for your talent and vision
Than your mistakes.
But just keep living,
Yeah, just keep giving.
Because its your effort
Your drive
Your passion
Your regret
That will one day inspire
A woman in great sorrow
To go on living.
Because she knows
That if her daughter comes home from school
And finds that her lovely drawings of her "hero"
Were not enough
To keep her mother content
With a life that she chose for the better of her daughter.
For the chance that she would live her dreams
And walk down the alter happy.
And this is for the teachers,
Who think that this day is not like the rest.
For the ones that give all the students a hug,
Before they leave for the summer.
For the ones that shed a tear during every ceremony.
"Tomorrow is another day,
It will all be ok."
This is what they tell themselves,
As they try to hide their tears
For the boy near the window.
Who found aluminum foil and a snowy powder
In his father's sock drawer,
And then confessed it
To the only person in his life
That his existence means anything to.
But just keep living,
Yeah, just keep giving.
Because its your effort
Your care
Your passion
Your drive
That will one day inspire
That same little boy
To mature with the realization
That he is not his father.
That he does not have to carry on
The traditions of mistakes he saw in his past.
Just let it all go,
And go.
Go.
Out into the world,
And remember that your past is only a fraction of who you truly are.
And remember the daughters,
The mothers.
Artists, teachers, and sons
That lead this revolution.
 Alucarda Incarnate · Wed Mar 21, 2007 @ 09:31am · 0 Comments |
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