cliche

My days begun, in a dusty bowl filled with sun When the sand began to burn our feet, we left my childhood in the street For sherbet skies, and fields that run for miles But there’s still an itch I just can’t scratch And yet with each passing day, I find truth in cliche We begin with only ourselves, and we leave just the same Divine contentment There’s work to be done but the train waits for no one To fly takes patience It’s not enough to survive, it’s about time to feel more alive You can find me now, in a concrete land filled with sound It finds light from steady streams of cars, a dazzling display of man made stars We live in tiny cells, stacked high into the sky It’s not for me, but I can proudly say I’ve tried And yet with each passing day I find truth in cliche When you love something more than yourself Cut it loose and walk away Divine contentment There’s work to be done but the train waits for no one To fly takes patience It’s not enough to survive, it’s about time to feel more alive