The Waiting

I’m not getting any younger
this place is getting smaller boy
seems like there ain’t nobody to turn to
oh if only I could get myself
a little meeting with the stars one night
that’d keep me from hurting, if I knew
if it was worth waiting
I’ve seen my body, tall and strong, being shackled to my broken brain
and my heart being shown a parade of dreams
that are never coming true
tired of waiting
been getting ready for a long, long time
chafing just from standing there trying, a thought:
«that hunger that breaks you,
might also just redeem you»
not unlike the drunken in the night
who tells the barman «keep ‘em coming, alright?»
I’m out there fighting demons
which gives purpose to my breathing
I see my horse, tired and trembling
being tied by someone else’s reins
and my heart being shown a parade of dreams
that are never coming true