Mad is no way to live. Rituals the same, life clocks back and forth around us. Nature cares less and dignifies the day anyway. Crisp fall, Texas cool. Leaves, blowing in the wind. Disappointments don't matter anymore, they are just left to flutter about. Ambition lost, took the wrong fork. But without worry seems the right road to me still, which can seem without care, even careless. Disrepair, like nature in a way. And it is. Because of this, it's a transient scene. Connecting along the way, then moving on. Vagabond life, simple and true, point to point. The times, they are a'changing, but time means jack to me. Avoid the pitiful trap, the snare of lies, the cages of the soul. There is nothing good there.
