As I hand back the kids the time is sparsely gone
when the things I’d learned to love, and the things I’d left behind
where the things from which I’d come, to redeem and reform my world
the things I’d left for some time now to live the life I had.

I didn’t know it then, but I do not feel it now.
I cannot comprehend what it is I must live down
The things I hadn’t given up and farewelled over and again
I’d never release the patterns of frustrating harmony

In nothing more of wisdom, nothing more of fame
it is for which I live right now
the piousness had ground
to halt and free and release the mind from the relics of this game.

I don’t speak it now, and nor do I know the truth.
I cannot dare to bear it now, it’s just not good enough,
but this is all I have to go on, this is all I’ve got,
I will not speak, nor dare it be the one that’s good enough.