Art is like the wheel; revolving.
As with life; it's all evolving.
Too much trouble, trying to solve
the mysteries that surround me.
And if for a moment, stuck in time,
my views were yours, and your views mine,
would we still search for the signs
of who we were meant to be?
So, continue on and on, we must
repeat mistakes, shake off the dust.
Then get back up, before we rust
as ships sunk in the sea.
With all the things dividing us
It may be hard to focus,
but, try remembering what once was
the world we'd hoped to see....
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