Tired of the world at hand
Tired but I can't give up
Monotony in another land
This water bland, despite the cup
Awakened by my weary eyes
Slowly fading is this fog
Another part of me that dies
Sinking slowly in this bog
Change so close, yet out of sight
My destiny is far from clear
Is what I'm doing really right?
Tell me, wise one, bend my ear
Beauty dulled admist my senses
Still no one there to help me see
And so I raise up my defenses
And fall back down on wounded knee
Chris Townsend
1999
