When the routines of lifeshroud my peace and cause me to wander lost
I long to be a small fish in a big pond,
to lose myself in the bright spot of the next road’s vanishing and to be born again in foreign eyes
I then awaken in remembrance that happiness isn’t meant to be rationed out like thin grey gruel
each day's dawn is a sweet symphony and as long as I hear the music my dreams will have to die another day.