The controlled distances of a life gone wrong
Killing the rhyme, a broken song
Turn off the lights and leave this hall
You reached for the stars but you hit a wall
A minute thought of doubt in your mind
With it you force my hands to bind
Continue on with your fashions of self
Seek after contentment, your image of wealth
Around in circles, Hell bent on success
Your soul too often forced to a test
Bow to a power of greater importance
Stop pleading with feigned ignorance
Your malady of guilt causes concern
Gripping so desperately to that which you yearn
And so you're destined time after time
To give in to your heart at the smallest sign
