A Little Lost
I’m high above the city
And twenty miles as the crow flies
But I can see the twinkling lights
Of your place sitting on the ocean beach
In the morning it’ll all be gray
As fog rolls in and overwhelms us
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It’s an odd year to be alive
A transition betwixt two mysteries
I signed my name in a book
As if it held any meaning at all
Ground crumbling beneath my feet
The treasure was always beneath me
I always raced without hitting brakes
Ambition was my black gold
A crude map of principles my guide
