Who wants to know all that is gold is rusting. No one will know, when seasons cease to change and how far we’ve gone, how far we’re going. It’s the here and the now, and the love for the sound, of the moments that keep us moving.
Waves crash along, the battered, lonely lighthouse. Tomorrow she’s gone and if not, someday somehow. Are these hands a waste? Well this side of mortality is scaring me to death. To death.
Don’t think about it at all. Just keep your head low, and don’t think about it all.
Soldier on, soldier on, keep your heart close to the ground. Soldier on, soldier on, keep your heart close to the ground.
~Soldier On, The Temper Trap
ps: death, will you take me tonight?